#WHY R THERE SO MANY NIGHTMARE FICS

[squidkidnerd]

yearning for more agent 24...

[girlgenius1111]

healing

alexia putellas x reader you don't like to admit when something is wrong, alexia knows this. she also knows that with a a scheduled surgery coming up for you, she'd have to wade through these hidden emotions as best she could to support you. basically, r has a breast reduction surgery, and alexia does her best to take care of her, even when r is a bit resistant. this is, obviously, very self indulgent. potentially the most self indulgent fic i've ever written. it's very reflective of my experiences recently so. you know. i hope you enjoy. hugeeeeee thanks to @pickledwoso who sent the request in and gave me sooo many ideas to work with.

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You sat up with a loud gasp, clutching at your chest. The specifics of the nightmare evaded you instantly, but you knew it had been horrifying. Filled with needles and doctors and knives and pain. 

“Amor?” Alexia mumbled groggily, emerging from where she was curled up under the covers, despite it being a warm evening.  She had barely been dragged from sleep by the sound you had made, only one eye cracking open to look at you.“You okay?” 

Unable to say much in response, you could only whimper quietly and shake your head. Alexia was wide awake in a second, sitting up and tilting your face towards her.

 “Ale-” You cut yourself off with a sob, leaning forward to bury your face in your girlfriend’s soft sleep shirt. 

Shaking once more, Alexia pulled you into her, cradling your body close. “What is wrong, mi amor?” 

“I-I… nightmare. I had a nightmare.” You admitted, too far gone into panic to try to hide your anxiety from your girlfriend. Alexia didn’t say much for a while, just nodding her head to show that she’d heard you, before she got to work calming you down. She did it rather easily, reminding you to breathe, stroking her fingers through your hair. She was soft, gentle, loving, and her affection bled through every light touch. Alexia always cared for you so easily; she made it seem simple. 

“Easy, just like that amor. In and out, slowly. It was just a dream, you’re right here with me. You’re okay.” 

It took a few minutes for you to calm down, and even still, you were still practically vibrating with anxiety. Alexia shifted over so that you were curled against her chest, and she could lean back against the headboard. With your face barely visible buried into her shirt, your girlfriend couldn’t really tell if you were still crying or not. Breathing steadier, for sure, but the sniffles coming from you every so often told Alexia that you were still very upset. 

The blonde began to run her fingers through your hair, massaging gently at your scalp. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

You were quiet for so long, she was sure you’d fallen back asleep. “I don’t remember what happened. It was about the surgery I think.” You murmured finally. “I’m a little nervous, I guess.” 

Alexia repressed a sigh. It was beyond clear to her, and had been for weeks, that you were more than mildly anxious about your scheduled breast reduction. She’d been waiting, less and less patiently, for you to just tell her how scared you were, but now the night before your surgery, she knew she couldn’t let this go on any longer. 

Wrapping both her arms tight around you, she pulled you even closer before she spoke. “It seems like you are maybe more than a little nervous, hmm?”

“Why do you say that?”

“You seem completely terrified, mi amor.”

“I am nervous, but I know I want to do this. I’m sure, Ale, I’ve made my mind up, and I-”

“You can still be nervous, even if you feel confident in your decision. That’s okay, amor. Why would you think it’s not?” 

“I… I just didn’t want you to try to change my mind.” 

“Why would I do that?” She sounded confused, and logically, you knew why. Ale was a deeply respectful person, and she’d never ever presume to tell you what to do with your body. Ever.

 No reply came, and Alexia realized you’d begun to tremble again. Frowning, she gently guided your chin up so she could look into your eyes, less than content with the anxiety so clear on your face. “Amor, talk to me. Please.” 

“What if you don’t like them? You know… after?” 

Alexia could have laughed at the completely ridiculous notion, but she saw the wet shine in your eye that told her you were completely serious. “Do not be silly. I will love them. ” She insisted. 

“You love them now.” You argued. “They won’t be the same.” 

Carefully, Alexia took your face in between her hands, insistently gazing down at you. “I know. They’ll be different. They won’t hurt you so much anymore, and that is all I want. Nothing will make me happier than you feeling better. I will love them, just like I love you.” She promised, her voice low and soothing. “You could get them removed completely, you could do anything, and it wouldn’t change how I feel about you. This is your body, mi amor. I love your body, and I will love it even when it changes.” 

“But… it doesn’t have to change.” Chewing on your lip, you took in your girlfriend’s completely puzzled expression. 

“I don’t understand. It doesn’t have to change, but you want it to, no?”

“I… don’t you think I’m being dramatic about this? A whole surgery just for some back pain…” Your words were not things you really believed. You knew you weren’t being dramatic, and you knew you were getting this done because of more than just back pain, although if you had, that would have been okay too. You’d just spent the last years hearing from your family and your doctors that you were being dramatic about your pain and the issues that came with having an absurdly large chest. Even getting a surgeon to agree to do the surgery was difficult, though you wouldn’t have even gotten there at all without Alexia. 

Not until you were with her, did you find yourself being believed. When you said you were hurting, she believed you. She wasn’t skeptical that you were exaggerating, or just looking for attention. It was this earnest belief that had you reconsidering, and ultimately deciding on, a breast reduction. Now, though, the years that people had spent belittling you and your struggles were rushing back to you, and you very suddenly felt like you were being ridiculous. 

The lights flickered on in the bedroom, and Alexia rolled back over to you. Having been lost in your thoughts, you’d missed her roll away to turn the bedside lamp on, and now she was studying you with a focused look on her face; one you knew to mean she was concerned. 

Her hand found yours, and she absentmindedly pulled the shoulder of your shirt back up as she spoke. “It is not a little back pain. It is debilitating. This affects your whole life, amor, you’ve wanted this for years. You know you aren’t being dramatic. Where is this coming from, hmm?” 

There was a deep reluctance in you to tell Alexia what you’d been through in the past with doctors and your family alike. You weren’t sure where it came from, or why it was so persistent, but you were too exhausted to fight it. Too terrified to even think of doing something that would make your anxiety spike. 

Your girlfriend seemed to sense this reluctance, because she brought your intertwined hands to her lips, leaving a kiss on your knuckles. A part of you had expected her to be annoyed for not talking, but another part of you knew better. Alexia didn’t get mad about stuff like that. All she had for you now was a sweet smile, and another kiss for your cheek that had you blushing unnecessarily. 

“We don’t have to talk about it.” She promised, mumbling the words against your face as she interspersed kisses in between her words. “You are not being dramatic. Your body changing does not bother me, could never bother me. I love you, and everything is going to be okay.” 

Entire body seemingly deflating, you leaned heavily into your girlfriend, torn between exhaustion, anxiety, and the overwhelming feeling of being adored. It wasn’t one were sure you’d ever get used to. With your face tucked into Alexia’s chest, it was hard to feel anything but safe and reassured, so you focused on the soft fabric of her shirt against your cheek, instead of what would be occurring the following morning. 

“I love you.” You murmured, burrowing in closer when your girlfriend tightened her arms around you. “Ale?”

“Hmm?”

“Will you come with me tomorrow? And stay?” You hated the vulnerability seeping from your words, didn’t want Alexia to ever see you as pathetically as you saw yourself. 

She only nodded, though, rubbing your back slowly. “Of course, cariño.” 

“It’s not too late to get out of training?” 

Alexia gave you a soft smile, though slightly embarrassed, rubbing her thumb across your cheek affectionately. “I am already called out, mi amor. I was going to stay anyway.”

“You were?” You asked with a shy grin. 

Alexia nodded enthusiastically. “Of course. I thought you might change your mind, and if you didn’t, well… I would have just pretended to go to training. I want to be there for you, and I would not be able to focus anyway.” 

You were overcome, for a moment, with affection for your girlfriend. She always seemed to anticipate what you’d need even before you knew herself. There was something about not only being loved, but known by Alexia that made you feel like the most special person in the world. You felt it even more when she placed the gentlest of kisses on your lips, and smiled at you just enough that the dimples on her cheeks appeared. 

“I am so lucky to have you.” You murmured, feeling emotion tug at you once again. 

Alexia shook her head with a grin, almost exasperated. “It always amazes me that you think you are the lucky one, when it is me. Because you are perfect and beautiful and I love you.” 

Before you could reply, and begin a back and forth of who was luckier, Alexia had pulled you to lay down practically on top of her, stretching her long arm to turn the bedside lamp off. 

“You need to rest, amor.” She insisted. And though when you’d woken from the nightmare, you had been sure you wouldn’t be sleeping any more tonight, there was something so soothing about being held so securely against your girlfriend. Your eyes began to shut of their own accord when she began to run her fingers through your hair, and you wondered briefly if there was anything Alexia couldn’t do.

------

The following morning came much too quickly. The first alarm went off at 6, only rousing you. Knowing you still had 15 minutes before you had to get up and get ready, you curled yourself back into Alexia’s side, shutting your eyes tightly and pretending that today was no different than any other day. Of course, the persistent anxious shaking of your body woke your girlfriend, though, an alarm in and of itself. 

It took her a second to realize what had woken her, as she couldn’t hear the alarm going off. Soon, though, she processed the way you were clinging to her, feeling her heart simultaneously melt and break.

“Oh, mi amor.” Alexia sighed, sliding her hand up the back of your shirt and splaying it across your spine, knowing you liked to feel her skin on yours. 

“Sorry I woke you early.” You whispered. 

“Don’t be sorry. I am always happy for 15 extra minutes to lay with you.” She said sweetly, tucking her face into your hair and sighing contentedly. She knew that if she kept herself calm, and didn’t react to your anxiety with her own, you’d be able to stay calmer. 

It felt like only minutes later that your second alarm was going off, and you groaned into your girlfriend’s chest as it did. Extracting herself from your rather tenacious grip, Alexia quickly rose from the bed and walked around to your side, grabbing your hand before you could bury yourself under the covers. 

“No hiding, amor. Time to be brave for me, sí?” 

Not one to deny any of your girlfriend’s requests, you let her tug you from the bed with a pout, one she very determinedly kissed off your face. Once she was done with that, she pulled you into the bathroom. 

“Okay. Shower quickly, I will eat something, and then we leave at 7:03.” She said, as if that was a normal time to plan to leave. You were long used to Alexia’s strict punctuality, though, so you just shook your head fondly at her. It was only when she attempted to pull away from you that your anxiety really rose, and you clung onto her hand with a look of panic on your face. 

Alexia turned back to you, expression completely open, as if she was ready to do whatever you needed her to do to feel better. 

“Shower with me?” You asked shakily, looking up at your girlfriend with wide eyes. 

“Siempre, guapa.” 

Your movements were practically robotic as you undressed yourself and allowed Alexia to guide you into the shower. For a moment, you allowed yourself to just rest against her under the warm stream of water, forcing yourself to breathe in and out slowly. As always when you showered together, Alexia insisted on washing you herself. Somehow, she knew that you needed to use the special medical soap on your chest, but could use your regular body wash everywhere else. 

You thought you caught a glimpse of sadness as she gently washed over your chest, and she must have felt you stiffen under her hands, because she was tilting your chin up and looking down at you, forehead crinkled in concern. 

“Are you sure you won’t hate what I look like after?” You asked, voice wobbling. 

Your girlfriend’s face softened. “I am sure. I will love you all the same.”

“You won’t miss them?” 

“Oh I will miss them. I should say farewell, no? Goodbye,” Alexia said wistfully, cupping each of your breasts in her hands. “I will miss you, but I will be happy when you stop bothering my pretty girlfriend.” 

“Oh my god.” You rolled your eyes, flushing at the attention on your chest, but feeling your heart soar at how genuinely she seemed to mean what she was saying. You appreciated her honesty. It wouldn’t have been believable that she wouldn’t miss them at all; the blonde had made it very clear in your time together that she very much enjoyed them. But for Alexia, she’d happily give that up if it meant that you were happier and more comfortable. And then felt like another level of love she must have for you. 

 Alexia leaned down to kiss you again, this time a bit more intensely as the water rained down over your heads. 

She broke away after a minute, a satisfied smile on her face telling you she was pleased that she had successfully distracted you. And distracted, you were. 

“Do we have time to-”

“No.” Alexia said sternly. “That is why we made sure to have enough time last night. We will not be late because you are horny even after I made you co-”

“OKAY. I don’t want a reminder if I can’t really enjoy the reminder.” You argued, barely noticing how Alexia turned the shower off and wrapped you in a towel. She really was doing a good job distracting you, because the mere step forward in your morning routine didn’t make you nauseous like it normally would have. 

The rest of the morning, Alexia went out of her way to keep you distracted. Whether it was giving herself a beard with bubbles in the shower, or forcing you to have an impromptu dance party in the kitchen while she ate a quick breakfast, your girlfriend gave you very little time for your mind to wander. Once you were in the car, though, it was inevitable. You were on the way, and there was nothing else to think about. 

Alexia kept her hand on you throughout the ride, noticing as you grew quieter as she pulled out of the drive, and brushed a few tears away when you thought she wasn’t looking. 

“Alright, mi amor?” She checked, well aware that you were not even close to alright.

“I’m so scared.” You whispered, Alexia just barely hearing your voice over the hum of the car engine. She moved her hand from your bouncing knee to grab onto your hand, squeezing it three times. 

“I know. Everything is going to be okay, amor. They do this every day, you will be in such good hands.” 

“What if I wake up in the middle?”

“You will not.” She sounded so sure. 

“What if I don’t wake up at all?

“You will wake up.” Again, her voice was filled with confidence. Whether it was truly what she believed, or if she was just saying it for your sake, you didn’t know, but you appreciated it nonetheless. 

“What if something goes wrong and I come out with three boobs or something?” 

“I will buy a sewing machine, and get to work making bras for three boobs.” Alexia said seriously. 

You gave a wet laugh, wiping at your eyes. Alexia smiled at you happily, fixing her eyes back on the road as the light turned green. Her hand didn’t leave yours the rest of the way to the hospital. 

------

Without Alexia there with you, it was likely that you would have bolted out the front doors of the hospital within a few minutes of arriving. You weren’t alone, though, and Alexia began to resort to absolutely ridiculous tactics to distract you and see a smile on your face. 

First, she blew up a glove she found in the room you were brought to wait in and then let it fly all around. It wasn’t really funny but the way she released it, and then looked at you with a hopeful grin on her face made you laugh anyway. If you counted correctly she made six bad jokes when they made you take a pregnancy test, that had you giggling even though they were quite juvenile. As the nurse put your IV in, the blonde reminded you of the time she got stitches in her leg on the sidelines of the football pitch, in the middle of the game, going so far as to point out the scar on her shin that you’d seen many times before. This wasn’t really funny either, but the somewhat disturbed look on the nurse’s face was. 

She was goofy when you needed her to be, she was serious and listened carefully whenever anyone was telling her important information, and she didn’t let go of your hand for the entirety of the pre op process. The minute your heart began to pound in your chest, or tears began to well in your eyes, you’d feel her squeeze your hand, and feel inexplicably comforted. Realistically, you knew Alexia had no ability to keep you safe once you were in the operating room. Still, you had the overwhelming feeling that because she was here with you, nothing bad could happen. 

“Okay, it’s time.” The nurse said kindly, walking into the room just moments after the surgeon had left. He had drawn all over you while answering Alexia’s seemingly endless questions about your recovery. 

You looked at the blonde next to you, willing yourself to remain calm, breathe deeply. She leaned in, kissing you softly. Once on the lips, then once on each cheek. 

“I love you. You are going to do so well, mi amor. I will be right here when you wake up.” She promised, helping you to your feet and squeezing your hand one last time. “Brave for me, okay?” the last part was whispered just for you to hear, and you nodded.

You could be brave for her. For her, you could do anything. 

“I love you, Ale.” 

She smiled at you until you disappeared out of sight, finally allowing the anxiety she’d been repressing all morning to let itself be known. It was going to be a long three hours, and she’d known that. She was absolutely resolved not to let you see her own nerves, knowing they’d only make you feel worse. Already calling her Mami as she was led to the waiting room, she hoped she did a good job at making you feel more comfortable. And she hoped, more than anything, that you’d be okay. 

-------

It felt nearly impossible to keep your eyes open. They opened and closed of their own accord, the room a bit different every time. Very vaguely, you recognized the surgeon coming to talk to you, saying something about everything going well. A nurse asked you about pain, and you focused enough to notice a slight twinge on your chest. 

The only coherent thought you had, though, was of your girlfriend. She said she’d be here when you woke up, and the beautiful blonde was nowhere in sight. 

“Would you like a sip of water?” The nurse asked kindly, holding a straw up to your mouth. You shook your head, though, frowning dramatically. 

“Alexia.” You murmured, eyes falling shut once again. The nurse chuckled, replying even though she wasn’t sure you were hearing her. The heart monitor attached to you was making a rhythmic beeping sound, and you were bobbing your head along to it gently, though you didn’t seem aware of it.  

“We’ll bring you out of recovery in a few minutes, and then you can see her.” 

Sure enough, you felt the strange sensation that you were moving, before you opened your eyes once again. Now in a different room, there was a smiling face next to yours, a gentle touch on your cheek. 

“Ale.” You sighed happily, eyes half shut, but a big smile adorning your features. 

“Hi, bonita.” Alexia chuckled. “How are you feeling?”

“Mmm.” You hummed. “Sleepy.” 

Alexia thought you looked incredibly adorable, all groggy and happy to see her. Clumsily, you reached for her hand, pulling it to cup your cheek. Your girlfriend laughed lightly, stroking her thumb over your cheek bone. 

“Are you in any pain?” 

“I loveeeeeee you.” You sang, clumsily patting her face with your free hand. 

Alexia laughed again, her features soft as she gazed down at you. “I love you too, cariño. Can you tell me if anything hurts?” 

“Nothin’ hurts.” You slurred. “Are my boobs small?” 

“Sí, look. The buttons on your shirt aren’t pulling apart anymore.” 

You’d bought several cotton button up pajama shirts especially for the occasion, having been told not to lift your arms above your head to put a shirt on. As always occurred with button ups, though, the buttons pulled tightly across your chest. Or, they had. Now, the shirt sat unstretched across your chest, and you felt a staggering amount of joy course through you. 

“Oh.” You said weakly, blinking hard as your eyes filled with tears. 

Alexia’s face fell. “What? Does something hurt? What’s wrong?” She asked frantically, looking around for something to stop the pain you weren’t actually feeling. 

“No, no. It’s good, it’s happy. They’re small and my shirt fits. Shirts like this never fit right and now they do.” You cried, too out of it to really feel embarrassed for crying so hard over such a small thing. 

“Oh, amor.” Alexia whispered, feeling like crying herself. She knew more than anyone how much you struggled with the way you’d looked before. She’d genuinely never seen you look so happy over your appearance before, and it was her new favorite thing. “I’m so happy you’re happy.” 

“I’m happy.” You mumbled, allowing Alexia to dry your face of tears. Carefully, Alexia brought the water to your lips again, and this time you drank some, feeling more and more awake with every passing second. And even though she was pretty sure you wouldn't remember this later, Alexia had to make sure you knew something. 

“You know what, amor?” She asked. 

“What?”

“You are beautiful. Even more beautiful now, with such a happy smile on your face.” 

It didn’t matter that you’d just cried, or that your hair was a mess. It didn’t matter that you were decidedly not beautiful at the moment. Because Alexia thought you were, and that made you think it, too. More than ever before, you felt beautiful like she said you were. 

------ 

The first two days went pretty smoothly. Everything ached a bit too much for you to really do anything on your own, and Alexia was more than happy to help. The trouble came after you were given clearance to shower, on the third day of your recovery. You wanted to do it by yourself, and Alexia was insisting on helping you. 

“No, Ale.” You snapped, trying to sit up and get out of bed on your own. Alexia wouldn’t move, though, still perched next to your legs, arms resting on either side of you, and honestly, you needed her help to get upright. 

She was being overly patient with you, and that only bothered you more; you didn’t like to be treated like you were fragile. “Amor, it says in the instructions, ‘have someone nearby to help for the first few showers.’’” 

“Nearby. Not in the bathroom with me. I’ll be fine, please just let me do this myself.” 

“It is not safe, I would like to be in there with you. I don’t understand, you have never had a problem with showering me before.” Alexia’s hazel eyes squinted at you, as though she was trying to visually ascertain what the issue was. 

“It’s different.” You grumbled, feeling your stomach twist at the idea of your girlfriend having to do another thing for you. Enough was enough, you had to be independent. If you couldn’t shower on your own, you’d feel completely helpless and you hated to feel helpless. 

“How is it different?” Alexia wondered, her patience with you still unwavering. 

“It just is! Move so I can get up, please.” 

The blonde just shook her head. “Not until you tell me how it’s different.”

“Alexia, I am disgusting right now, I’m gonna be all bruised and swollen and I haven’t showered in two days. It’s gross, I’m gross.”

She didn’t even blink, as though she’d already known this. “I don’t care about that, cariño. I just want to make this easier for you. Please let me help.”

“I don’t need help.” 

“You do, and that’s okay. Please, amor, just let me come into the bathroom with you. I’ll sit on the counter if you want me to, but let me be in the room. Please.”

Your girlfriend had a way of asking you things and making her eyes wide as she did so, making you agree without really thinking. It was genuinely difficult to say no to someone so pretty, who very clearly just wanted the best for you. This was how you found yourself in the bathroom, allowing Alexia to carefully unbutton your shirt and remove the bra from your chest. 

You’d tried to do it yourself at first, but it was ridiculously difficult to get your arms to do what you wanted them to do without pressing against your chest or your sides, and your yelp of pain had Alexia firmly telling you that she was helping you, and that was that. 

You waited for her face to turn disgusted, or at least for her eyes to give her away. It didn’t happen. She looked pained at the sight of the bruising on your body, but that was sympathetic. The kiss she gave you filled your body with warmth, but that warmth disappeared as soon as Alexia stepped away to turn on the shower, and you turned to look at yourself in the mirror. 

It was the first time you were really seeing your reflection, seeing the full results of what had been done, and you were more than a little horrified. 

When Alexia turned back around to help you into the shower, you had turned several shades paler, and your legs were shaking. Eyes fixed on your chest in the mirror, you looked completely disgusted with what you saw reflecting back at you. 

 Worried that you would pass out or something, Alexia stepped in behind you, carefully placing her large hands on your upper arms to hold you steady. “Amor? Feeling okay?”

“Dizzy.” You managed, leaning back into her. Alexia grabbed the water she’d had the foresight to bring into the bathroom, and carefully urged you to take a few sips. She knew how you were with stuff like this, ever since you’d passed out once watching her get stitches after a nasty tackle. 

“Just breathe. In through your nose, and out through your mouth. Don’t look if it’s bothering you.” 

“I-I… please don’t look, either, Ale.” You requested, shutting your eyes tightly. Alexia only hummed in response, resting her chin on your shoulder and rubbing her hands up and down your arms. “It’s awful, it’s so gross.” 

The bruising and the sight of the incisions through the tape over them was enough to make you nauseous, but Alexia being there only made it worse. She shouldn’t have to see you like this. 

She seemed unphased, though, her eyes on your face in the mirror, not distracted by your chest. “It looks exactly as the doctor said it should look. Your body went through so much, healing isn’t going to be perfect and pretty. Everything is okay, I promise. Just look at my face, and focus on me. Everything is okay.” 

You did as she asked, breathing deeply for a few minutes, your eyes fixed on hers in the mirror. Only when some color had returned to your face, and you weren’t shaking as badly, did Alexia move from where her body pressed to yours. 

“Are you ready? She murmured in your ear, enjoying that at least from this angle, from behind you, she could feel your body against hers. You enjoyed it too, your head dropping back to her shoulder as you nodded. “Okay. We’ll go quick. I’ll wash your body, wash your hair and then you can lay down.” 

Too afraid of what would happen if you stepped into the shower by yourself, you nodded again. 

It always struck you how gentle Alexia could be. On the pitch she was a force to be reckoned with, her body a well oiled machine that always got the job done. Her job was so physical, it always surprised you how soft her hands were, how gentle her touch was. 

She was so careful with you, especially now. The blonde maneuvered you under the stream of water, getting to work right away, as if she knew how exhausted you already were, just from standing for a few minutes. She hummed as she worked the loofa across your skin, intermittently leaving kisses wherever she saw fit. Done with that, Alexia moved on to your hair, her fingers feeling absolutely magical on your scalp after several days of it being tied back in a bun. 

You were mostly silent, only speaking to reply to Alexia’s quiet check ins every few minutes. It was only when she was facing you, massaging the conditioner out of your hair as you tilted your head back under the stream of water, that you said anything of substance. 

“Thank you for helping.” 

“Always.” Alexia mumbled, her lips pressed to your forehead. “I miss hugging you.”

You melted even further, as if the careful way she washed your hair for you wasn’t soft enough. “You’re adorable.” 

“No, I am tough and strong.” Alexia objected. 

“And incredibly adorable.” You insisted. For the first time that day, Alexia saw the ghost of a smile on your lips, and she made herself a promise that she’d make you smile more often. Even if she had to be ridiculous to do so, though it would prove to be harder than she wanted. 

------

It felt like there was a dark cloud hanging over you. You were irritated and depressed and near tears for no discernible reason. Alright, there was a reason, but you were too upset to really think rationally about it. Everything hurt more once you’d stopped taking the prescription painkillers you’d been prescribed, and the lack of the drugs was definitely not helping your mood. The last two days had been horrible, your recovery hitting a wall. It had been a week exactly, and suddenly, nothing was moving fast enough. 

Now that you were used to the sight, your breasts didn’t seem as small as they had at first. They were swollen, you kept reminding yourself, but the worry that they wouldn’t be small enough, that you’d gone through all this for nothing, persisted. It didn't matter that logically, you knew they were smaller. You’d seen what was removed, been told the measurements, and still. You’d convinced yourself they looked mostly the same. It hurt to move and showering took you at least an hour every time. You hyper fixated on your appearance, worried that now that your chest was supposedly smaller, everything else would be bigger. Alexia kept taking days off work, and when she didn’t, her mother or her sister would randomly show up with something random to drop off or pick up. You hated that she felt like she couldn’t leave you alone, and you hated even more that she was right to feel that way. You couldn’t lift anything, could barely sit up on your own. Your girlfriend was stuck helping you with every little thing, from showering to walking down the stairs. It was miserable. 

It felt like she asked you every other minute if you were in pain. And god, you were. More than you thought you’d be. Everytime, though, your answer was the same. Just a bit, you’d tell her. Both of you knew you were lying. You’d grit your teeth and bear it, unwilling or perhaps unable to admit to Alexia that your chest ached and stung and pulled and hurt. Your brain didn’t feel much better. 

Of course, Alexia knew you were miserable. The doctor had warned her this might happen; it wasn’t uncommon for individuals to fall into a depression after surgery like this. There were a lot of complex emotions involved. Combine those emotions with pain and narcotics, of course you didn’t feel like yourself. She’d been awake last night, when you’d cried next to her, holding her hand like a lifeline even as you stayed as quiet as you could. Alexia knew you didn’t want her to see you in pain, and if she could bring you comfort because you thought she was asleep… she’d take that. 

Still, though, every part of her ached with how sad you seemed, and how shut down you’d become. She was sure that if you talked about even one of the things bothering you, you’d feel so much better. You weren’t talking, though, and Alexia was running out of ways to help you. 

The blonde had one final idea before she broke and called your doctor to tell him that you just weren’t coping well, and she really didn’t want to do that. So, she made you tea, put on a boring documentary, and played with your hair until you were half asleep on top of the covers of your bed, as snuggled into Alexia’s pillow as you could get at the moment. 

She gently roused you, informing you that she had to run out for groceries but she’d be back very soon, before grabbing her list and slipping out the front door. Alexia had assumed you’d gone right back to sleep, but you hadn’t.

Instead, you’d realized you had to use the bathroom, dragging yourself off your bed and into the bathroom. It was there that you bumped into the door, which hurt way more than it normally would have. It had been the last straw of an already horrible day, and you just couldn’t take it anymore. Couldn’t be brave anymore. 

Alexia had been in such a rush to leave so she could come back, that she forgot her wallet, turning the car around only a few minutes into her drive to return and grab it. 

“Amor, I forgot my-” Alexia’s whispered words halted as she walked into the bedroom, and the sounds of your sobs hit her ears. You weren’t in bed where she’d left you, and your girlfriend whipped her head around in panic. “Baby, where are you?” She shouted, able to tell that you were closeby. Answering her own question, she rushed towards the bathroom, only relaxing slightly when she found you. 

Hunched over by the sink, your shoulders shook with the force of your sobs. Somewhere in her mind, Alexia realized that the movement was likely causing you pain. The blonde hadn’t ever heard you cry this hard in her life, and when you whipped your head around to look at her when she pushed the door open, you looked broken. You only looked more upset at the sight of her, and your girlfriend tried not to panic. 

“Baby, are you hurting?” Alexia questioned, moving forward as her hands fluttered uselessly in the air. All you could do in response was continue to cry, and reach one shaky hand towards the blonde. “I need you to talk to me.” 

It was all just too much; you couldn’t hold it in any longer. You needed her to kiss you and hold you and promise that everything would be okay. “I..I- hurts, Ale, it hurts so bad.” 

“I’m so sorry.” Alexia frowned, giving your hand a squeeze. “What can I do?” 

“I d-don’t know, it just hurts.” You sobbed, your chest stuttering. 

“The crying is not helping, amor, try to breathe.” She encouraged, exaggerating her own breaths for you to copy. It worked only slightly, and your face was still contorted in pain. “Let me get you some more medicine.” 

“No, stay.” You panicked, only tightening your grip on your girlfriend’s hand. 

“Okay, I’m right here.” She cooed, trying to move closer and give you a gentle hug. You winced away from her, though, in too much pain and too afraid of it worsening to allow her close to you. 

“I don’t know what to do,” you whimpered, wanting the pain to stop if only so she could hug you. 

Pausing and pursing her lips, your girlfriend tried to think logically. Getting up was difficult for you, standing only worse.  Sitting propped up on the bed was the only way for you to be even slightly comfortable, so Alexia took each of your hands in hers. “Back to bed, okay? You’ll feel better sitting.” 

You nodded, and allowed your girlfriend to carefully lead you out of the bathroom, and back towards the bed. “Okay, almost there. You’re doing so well.” 

It felt ridiculous to be praised for something as simple as walking back to bed, especially as you needed her help to do so. Still, she sounded so earnest and encouraging you couldn’t doubt her sincerity. 

Alexia got you settled on the bed just how you liked, and adjusted the pillows until they were just right. You sighed shakily, shifting as you tried to get comfortable. 

“Tell me how to help you.” Alexia practically pleaded. 

“I want ice please.” You sniffled, desperate for anything to numb the pain on your body, and the pain inside your head. Alexia tucked the blanket around you, using her thumb to wipe a few tears off your cheeks, gazing at you regretfully. 

“I’m sorry, amor, the doctor said no ice, remember? It is bad for the circulation. I can get you more medicine and a cool towel for your head?” Her suggestions felt weak, and she wished she could just take it from you, take away how badly you felt. 

You nodded, a few more tears falling from your eyes as you did so. It seemed to Alexia as though every time she offered to help you, you cried more. She rose to go get what she needed, and you let your head fall back on the pillows, a few quiet sobs escaping. You wished you could stop needing her so badly. 

Crying too hard to notice her return, you jumped when she placed her hand on your upper arm, crying out quietly as you did so. 

“Easy, amor.” She soothed, handing you two pills and holding a straw to your lips. Once you took the medicine, she wiped the tears off your face with the wet washcloth in her hand, her features wrinkled with worry. You hadn’t stopped crying, and she didn’t know what else to do to help you. 

“Are you crying because it hurts, or because of something else?” She wondered. 

“I don’t know, I just can’t stop.” You whimpered, clutching almost desperately at your girlfriend’s hand. 

Letting out a sad, sympathetic sound you’d never heard her make, Alexia took her place on her side of the bed, scooting over so she was pressed up against the pillow that was pressed up against you. It was the best she could do at the moment, even if she wanted to pull you into her and never let go. You reached over the pillow to grab onto her hoodie, the brown one with holes all over it you liked to make fun of. She’d put it on earlier, hoping you’d do just that, but she’d had no luck. 

Alexia just watched you for a few minutes, both of her hands on you, tracing patterns into your skin wherever she was sure wouldn’t hurt you. It became clear to her that you were exhausting yourself, your eyes barely even open anymore as you wiped at the tears that wouldn’t stop falling. 

“Amor, you need rest.” She whispered, watching your eyes flutter open to look at her helplessly. 

How were you supposed to sleep when you were so upset? 

“I can’t.” 

“Try for me. Close your eyes, relax your body.” The blonde instructed, smiling despite herself as you instantly did as she asked. Grabbing the cool washcloth again, she folded it in half and draped it over your eyes. Sighing you settled back into the pillows a bit, chest still stuttering every few seconds, but less intensely than it had been. “Sleep, cariño. I’m right here, I love you, and everything is okay.” 

Her words had an incomprehensible power over you, and it wasn’t long before you were barely clinging to consciousness. The tears had stopped, and all you could really think about was that you were really glad that Alexia was here with you. 

------

Alexia wasn’t sure how long you’d cried for before your grip on her sweatshirt had gone slack, and you’d finally relaxed. She let you sleep for an hour or so, though, unmoving so she didn’t disturb you. She busied herself with her phone, placing an order of the things she needed so she didn’t have to leave you, but mostly, she just watched you sleep. Swollen and red eyes, tear stained face, uncomfortable frown on your face even as you slept, you were still the most beautiful person she’d ever seen in her life. 

Once the delivery was made, your girlfriend slipped out of bed as carefully as she could, heading for the front door. Turning around with the bags from the front porch in hand, Alexia jumped a little at the sight of you standing behind her. She hadn’t heard you follow her out of the bedroom, but she saw you now, more tears falling down your flushed face. 

“Hey,” she said soothingly, moving closer even as you backed away from her. 

“You were supposed to go grocery shopping and I ruined it,” you cried, feeling a little ridiculously upset that you’d messed up her plans. You just thought she needed the time away from you. It wasn’t as though you were pleasant to be around right now. “You didn't get to run your errands, I’m so sorry.”

“You haven’t ruined anything, mi amor.” Alexia cooed. “Come on, sit on the couch for me, and I’ll show you what I got.” 

Sniffling, Alexia led you to the couch, helping you sit down and once again, placing the excessive amount of pillows exactly as you liked them. She began to pull items out of the bags once she sat down next to you, explaining what she’d gotten as she did so in a very quiet, almost shy voice. 

“A new candle, it makes the crackle sounds you like. Your favorite candy. Some roses, and I will put them in a vase and you could put them next to your bed, if you want. This is supposed to be a cooling blanket, so you don’t get too warm. I noticed you were almost out of the hair ties you use, so I got more of those. You liked that one button up shirt you got, so I got more because they are easier than other shirts, and these are very soft.” She listed everything out, putting it all on the coffee table in front of you. 

It was endless, the number of things she’d bought for you. Favorite snacks, a book you’d mentioned wanting to read once. A new coffee mug, even though she always complained that you had too many already, just because she knew you’d like the color. One bag was full of the ingredients to make your favorite dinner. She grabbed the last bag off the floor, really rambling now that you hadn’t said a word in at least 2 minutes. 

“I can return this if you don’t want it.” She finished, pressing the small, plush elephant into your hands as her face turned red. “I thought he could keep you company when I’m at work, but it’s probably stupid-”

You cut her off, tucking the elephant under one arm as you tilted her chin up with your other. Her face fell further, because you were still crying. 

She didn’t know that they were no longer sad tears. 

“I love you.” You blubbered, absolutely sure that there weren't words to describe how grateful you were for her at that moment. Ale, your perfect, sweet Ale. What had you done in your life to deserve her? “I love the elephant, I love everything. What did you do all this for?” 

Alexia looked at you incredulously, her fingers linking with yours. “You have been so down. I just wanted to make you smile. I thought maybe one of these things could.” 

“Oh. I… I didn’t know you noticed. I thought I was doing a good job hiding it.” 

You would never be winning an Oscar, Alexia thought to herself. “Why would you hide that from me?” She wondered, her face adorably confused. 

“You’re dealing with enough from me right now, you don’t need-”

“I decide what I need and don’t need.” Alexia cut in, her voice so firm it had your head snapping up to stare at her. She wasn’t angry, though, just… passionate. “Don’t push me away because you think you are being too much. I knew what I was getting into when you scheduled this surgery. I arranged to have time off so I could take care of you. I know you are hurting and I know you are upset, and I want nothing more than for you to talk to me.” 

“You’re too good to me.” You murmured, eyes flitting all over her face, trying to memorize the sincere expression on her face. 

“This is what you deserve.” Alexia disagreed, her knee shifting over until it pressed into yours. “Now, I know you are hurting because you just had surgery, but I do not know what has you so sad. Can you tell me? Please?”

How could you say no to that? The issue was, you weren’t even sure where to start. “There’s too many things. I’m just… I don’t feel right.” 

Alexia hummed. “Amor, it is normal to be depressed after a surgery like this. It says in the post op notes, your doctor talked to me about it. This is normal, how you are feeling is normal and it isn’t going to last forever.”

It was the same thing you’d been telling yourself, except now it echoed around your head in Alexia’s voice, and that held so much more meaning. Nodding meekly, you wondered if you should keep going. 

“What else?” 

Nervously, you glanced down at your chest. You didn’t want to sound ungrateful. Not everyone got the chance to have this surgery, even if they needed it, and it felt so disgusting to complain. The feeling that they were still too big was unshakeable, though. 

“You don’t like how they look.” Alexia stated simply. You stared at her, jaw dropped, wondering suddenly if she could read minds. She gave you a small smile, tugging at her ponytail and fiddling with the ends of her hair. “That is normal, too. I read about it. They don’t feel different enough?” 

“No.” You replied quietly, still ashamed of your feelings. 

“They are still swollen. It will take three to four months for them to look how they are going to look. You have to be patient, you have to give yourself time. I know everything is overwhelming right now, but I promise you, they are smaller, and they will get smaller still.” 

This time, Alexia raised your intertwined hands to her lips, pressing a kiss to the back of yours. “What else?” She asked again. A mind reader, for sure, you decided. 

You bit your lip before speaking, though it was progress that you verbalized your feelings without Alexia having to guess. “I’m in so much pain. It’s taking so long to go away. You can’t do anything or go anywhere because you’re here helping me. I’m such a burden right now and I hate it. I’m so tired of this. I don’t want you to have to help me with every little thing.”

Alexia looked almost offended. “You have never been a burden a day in your life, and I am sorry that anyone has ever made you feel that way. I am happy to be here, and help you heal. Really, amor. You’ve wanted this for so long, and this part isn’t very fun, but you’re doing so well. It hurts, and it sucks, I know that. It feels like it’s taking forever, but it’s just barely been a week. You aren’t helping yourself by keeping all these negative thoughts in your head, either.”

“Probably not.” You agreed timidly. 

“Probably not.” Alexia echoed, her hand coming up to cup your cheek. “I am here for you because I want to be, so let me help, okay? It isn’t your instinct to tell me when you are hurting, or when you need help, but I want you to try, okay? Just try.” 

“I’ll try.” You promised. Because, honestly, if Alexia was this good at making all your fears and stressors melt away and she was happy to do it, there was no justification for suffering in silence anymore. 

“I”m proud of you. You are doing so well, and I love you. Everything is going to feel better soon, and until then, I am right here with you.”

“Are you going somewhere once I am better?” You asked teasingly, just the hint of a smile tugging at your lips. This did not go unnoticed by your girlfriend, who leaned closer and got a look on her face you knew to be her I just won look. 

“A smile.” Alexia grinned, pressing her forehead against yours, still making sure to give your entire midsection a wide berth. 

“It’s just for you.” You whispered, holding eye contact with her, and enjoying that it no longer felt insincere because you were keeping so much to yourself. 

“I’m not going anywhere. Ever.” Alexia promised. Her words were barely more than a warm exhale on your mouth, and before long, she was brushing her soft lips against yours, giving you the world’s most careful kiss. 

She had magical kisses, you decided. Magic hands, as they linked with yours. A magic smile that made you grin, too. Good taste in get better soon gifts, you thought, picking up the elephant and asking her if she’d thought of a name for it. 

“Alex.” She smirked, looking rather proud of herself. 

And maybe she had egotistical taste in names, but you were more convinced every second that she was right, that things would get better, and a bit of ego was something you could handle. Especially when it came wrapped up in a package with overwhelming amounts of love and care. You were the luckiest girl in the world, you’d never been more sure of that. 

Hours later, after you’d eaten your favorite dinner and lit your new candle, settling into bed with a much more relaxed look on your face, Alexia thought the same thing. She was the luckiest to have you. Your smile was worth everything, and she’d missed it these past few days. It didn’t feel like she’d have to miss it anymore, though, especially as you drifted off, your hand in hers. Lips curved just slightly upward. You always had a smile to give Alexia. 

------

i'm honestly not sure if this is too niche for people to enjoy, so i'd appreciate any thoughts anyone has :) this feels wildly vulnerable and i will do my absolute best to not get embarrassed and delete it 🙏 love to you all 🫶🏻🫶🏻🥰🥰

[k-s-morgan]

i know you just uptade the last chapter but if its possible can we take a second chapter snippet?

Love your fics btw

Another ask: Hi, I understand if you don't want to, but can you give us a small snippet from ATLWETD's next chapther? I can't stop thinking about your story

-----

Hi! Thank you <3 And sure! Here's one from the beginning of the next chapter. Harry and Tom have such a long conversation there that sharing a part won't spoil much))

Fortunately, Riddle was the first to finally break the silence.

“What are your nightmares about?” he asked. His voice sounded a little strange, unsteadily so. Come to think of it, the question seemed too abrupt as well. Normally, Riddle would have tried to prepare the ground, to come at him from afar, but now he was asking what he wanted without preamble.  

Was the drug already working?

There was only one way to find out.

“Why do you want to know?” Harry wondered.

“I’m curious if you and I have the same dreams,” Riddle replied instantly. Then his brows furrowed, and it didn’t take Harry long to recognise the signs of confusion on his face.

Riddle wasn’t certain why he’d replied the way he did. He didn’t suspect anything yet — it probably didn’t occur to him that Harry might choose to embrace his barely-existent Slytherin side and switch the cups, but he was bewildered. It was evident that he hadn’t meant to reply at all.

“Oh,” Harry said. Despite his boiling anger, Riddle’s words took him briefly aback. “I— maybe.”

It was easy to guess what Riddle could be dreaming about. The war, and everything that came with it. In a way, their dreams were indeed similar. He didn’t need to be drugged to tell the truth in this instance.

“I dream about death,” Harry said. “Death and destruction.”

Riddle flinched. His frown grew deeper, and he rubbed his face carefully, as if trying to get himself under control.

“If it terrifies you in your dreams, how can you be willing to experience it again in reality?”

It was Harry’s turn to frown. He didn’t understand what these words meant, even though based on Riddle’s increasingly baffled expression, he was supposed to. 

“You agreed to accompany me to the Wool’s in summer,” Riddle said slowly. He still looked incredulous, and Harry winced, his heart thumping anxiously.

Right. The Wool’s. The Muggle war — this was what Riddle thought Harry was dreaming of, what he feared.

He did fear the war, but not the kind Riddle had in mind.

“So what?” Harry murmured. He imagined things wouldn’t be pleasant in London, but whatever anxiety he felt over it was minuscule. “Fear doesn’t drive my decisions all that often. It’s normal to be scared — it doesn’t mean I have to let this fear control what I do. If you need me there, I’m going to be there. Then we can have our nightmares together.”  

For a second, Riddle looked overwhelmed. Harry’s answer seemed to have bared so many of his emotions that it was impossible to keep track of them all. Incredulity changed into puzzlement, puzzlement grew into relief, and relief transformed into something else.

But most importantly, Harry caught a glimpse of something so raw and so vulnerable in Riddle’s gaze that his breath caught in his throat immediately. His heart gave a heavy thud.

It was difficult to stay angry when Riddle was looking at him like this.

Riddle must have realised that he was revealing more than he was willing to. He looked away, visibly schooling his expression.

“What is your business with Hagrid?” he blurted out. He was anxious to distract Harry from an awkward moment — and it worked. This question quickly had him on edge.

After what Riddle had done to Hagrid, he had no right to bring him up.

“What do you think is my business with Hagrid?” Harry inquired coldly. It was difficult to limit himself to merely bouncing Riddle’s questions back, considering the rage beating in him, but even something this simple brought him perverted pleasure.

He hadn’t overstepped any boundaries yet. But he might.

How long was it going to take Riddle to understand that he’d been drugged? Every passing second of obliviousness underlined what low opinion of Harry he had. He must take him for a complete fool if he was so certain that his little plan would remain uncovered and that Harry wouldn’t do anything to retaliate.

“I think you’re trying to make allies who can be of use in the future,” Riddle said. He sounded so confident that it was a wonder he even bothered to ask anything. It seemed like he’d made up his mind ten times over. “You are targeting lowlifes like a half-giant everyone despises, a new girl from abroad no one is interested in, even Alphard, the most pathetic of the Knights. You are planting the seeds that will bear you invaluable fruit at the time of famine. The only thing I can’t understand is whether you’re recruiting these people for my sake or for your own. Do you plan to support me? Or to oppose me?”   

Harry’s jaw dropped open. He stared at Riddle, speechless, unable to push out single word.

Planting seeds? At the time of famine? Riddle thought he was being nice to the less popular people because he was… what, gathering a future army?

“What’s in your head?” Harry asked, disbelief making his voice sound harsher.

“Brains,” Riddle replied immediately. They both froze, then, staring at one another silently.

[spookyghostbunny]

Throws this fic at you then runs

🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼

The circus members couldn't help but to feel sorry for their new little jester. Everybody who enters the digital realm has similar reactions, but Pomni was a constant walking ball of anxiety. You couldn't blame her. The overly bright colors alone were enough to drive anyone insane.

Ragatha was absolutely furious. Jax had played yet another cruel prank on her, and she was out for revenge. On her way to confront the prankster, she spotted Pomni's picture. Poor Pomni. Even her own door displayed how fearful she was. It made Ragatha's digital heart ache more for the girl.

Completely forgetting about Jax, she lifted her hand and delivered a few hesitant knocks. "Pomni! It's me, Ragatha! I was uh- wondering if you... wanted to talk? I understand if you don't! That's completely cool, and I respect if you didn't want to! You don't really know me, and you probably want to be alone-"

Ragatha's rambling was cut off when she noticed a pair of nervous colorful eyes staring up at her.

Huh.

Were Pomni's eyes always that cute?

Ragatha flushed and shook her head. "Oh! Hey, Pomni! M-may I come in?"

Pomni nodded, leaving the door open for the doll as she went back inside. Ragatha followed, sitting down on the bed next to the smaller girl.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, Ragatha tried to strike up a conversation. "So! How... How are you doing?"

Pomni glanced up at her before looking back down at her hands. "I- I don't know anymore... I'm still convinced this is a t-terrible nightmare.... Sh-shouldn't I have w-waken up by n-now?" Ragatha could feel Pomni trembling beside her.

Ragatha's eyes soften as she puts a hand on Pomni's shoulder. "Hey, it's ok, new stuff. I understand how you feel... We all do. You'll get used to things eventually and-"

"BUT I DON'T WANT TO GET USED TO THIS! I WANT TO LEAVE- NEED TO LEAVE! I CAN'T STAND BEING HERE A SECOND LONGER!" Pomni curls up into a ball, hiding her face in her arms. "I just want to go home..."

Ragatha was surprised by Pomni's outburst. Each word sent another sharp pang through her heart. Not wanting to make things worse, she quickly thought of ways that could help her friend? feel better.

A silly idea popped into her mind. Hmm... This might just work.

Carefully as to not startle her more, Ragatha pulled the jester onto her lap. Pomni looked at her with a mixture of confusion and surprise. "R-Ragatha?"

The doll smirks, forming her hands into claws and wigging them above Pomni.

The anxious jester squeaked when she realized what was about to happen. "Wait! Ragatha- Nohohoho!" She immediately giggles when Ragatha starts scribbling her sides. She weakly kicks and squirms, but she doesn't put up much of a fight.

Ragatha's smirk melts into a fond smile. This was the first time she saw a genuine smile on Pomni's face. And her laughter is adorable! The doll just had to hear more of it. "Aww! Is the newbie ticklish?~ Tickle tickle, Pomni!~" She teased, moving down to squeeze Pomni's hips.

Pomni's giggles turned into full blown laughter. "Nahahaha! D-dohon't tehehehease!" Pomni cried, hiding her blushy face in her hands. She was actually starting to feel a bit better. It felt nice to laugh and let go after feeling so many negative emotions.

"Why? Does it make the tickles worse?~"

"Yehehes!!" Pomni squeals, lightly bapping at the doll's plush arms.

Ragatha just laughed. Pomni was truly adorable.

5 minutes later Ragatha slows her tickling until she finally comes to a stop. She holds Pomni close, rubbing away the phantom tickles. "How are you doing now, Pom?"

Pomni snuggles against Ragatha, still feeling very giggly. "Fihihine.... Thank you."

"Anytime, new stuff."

They sat there cuddling and enjoying each other's company for a while.

Suddenly, Ragatha remembered something important. "Wanna help me get back at a certain rabbit?"

For the first time, Ragatha saw some mischief in Pomni's colorful eyes.

(You don't wanna know how difficult this was to write)

[eds6ngel]

hiiiii omg can u do one where robin and afab reader are happily seeing each other. one day, reader overhears some people talking badly about same-sex relationships and saying what they'd do to a same-sex couple if they saw one in public. scared, reader tries to break up with robin without explaining why. it's an emotional and tense moment, but robin won't let reader leave until she explains. finally, reader tells robin her fears, leading to a gentle, comforting conversation and moment that brings them closer

one day, we’ll be free ᰔᩚ

robin buckley x fem!reader

summary: you and robin had been seeing each other for two months in private, praying for the day that you could move to a more liberal area, but how would you react when jason carver makes his violent opinions known about lesbians?

pre warning !! this is a very heavy chapter, so make sure to read the tags carefully. if you find anything that triggers you, please go ahead and skip this fic. please do let me know if i have missed anything!!

warnings: ANGST!! fem!reader. lesbian!reader. closeted/hidden relationship. heavy 80s accurate homophobia. use of d slur in a derogatory way. rape & pedophilia accusation against a lesbian. gun mention. threat of hurting/killing lesbians. robin’s parents are homophobic. r tries to run away. allusion to self harm. break-up attempt. lots of crying. death mention. pet names (my love, baby, honey.) food mentions. slight fluff. [2.7k].

a/n: thank you for requesting, lovely! i did make this chapter very heavy and accurate to the time period (at least i hope close enough!) so i hope that this is suitable to what you can read and enjoy the fic ♡

You had met Robin in your French class in your junior year. You had found her to be the most stunning girl in the entirety of Hawkins High, and in an ideal world, you would’ve been asking her out in the middle of the damn hallway.

But… it was 1985, and you could’ve been ostracised, hurt, or even killed by another student or teacher if you even attempted to do so.

However, luckily for you, privacy was something that could be maintained. You successfully asked Robin out in a secluded area of Lover’s Lake extremely late at night, and to your delight, she said yes.

And for the past two months, you and Robin had been happily seeing each other in your own time. Whereas you would’ve loved to have publicly showed off your girlfriend like any of the other couples around Hawkins did, some a little too much, you still found comfort in the dates you organised in your bedroom or a nice, private spot during early hours of the morning.

However, your ultimate dream was to escape to the city. New York, LA, San Francisco, anywhere where you could go to a gay bar and just find like-minded people. Maybe there were more gay people in Hawkins, but how would you ever come to find out?

You loved this town, you grew up in this town and made so many memories here, but it just wasn’t safe for your future. Nowhere was really, but at least the cities had a community. Here? It was just you and Robin against everyone else. Against every other likely homophobic asshole that graced these streets.

You were sat at one of the lunch tables, patiently waiting for your girlfriend to join you from her Biology class. Unfortunately for you, it seems as if Robin’s class had been let out later than usual, so you had to grab a table before they were all taken, and that table just so happened to be to the right of Jason Carver’s designated spot. It wasn’t even designated, but everyone in the school was too goddamn scared, or simply agreed that that space was now his.

And just like always, he was being an absolute nightmare.

The daily Eddie Munson vs. Jason Carver shenanigans had already taken place, and since Jason’s table was obnoxiously loud about their talking points, you were subject to every word they would utter throughout the rest of the lunch period.

You spotted your girlfriend entering the cafeteria, giving her a huge grin and a wave, to which she returned, grabbing a tray and lining up in the lunch queue.

Your worries had settled for a few moments, glad that Robin was safe and healthy, but, that’s when Jason’s conversation definitely caught your ear.

“Dude, apparently one of the local dykes around here raped a teenage girl a few weeks ago.”

The whole table erupted into a roar of laughter at one of the other jock’s words, you purposefully holding back your tears. Not only were they being extremely homophobic, but they were laughing about a girl in her age category getting hurt. Gay or not, how could you even joke about that kind of thing? It’s so vile.

“Not even shocking, man. You know, if I saw one of them lesbians around here, I would be the first person to take them out. My dad owns a few guns, I could easily shoot them down from a mile away.”

That level of violence from Jason made you instantly terrified for your life. You were lucky you presented feminine, so everybody assumed you were into men, but what if he caught you and Robin in your safe space at Lover’s Lake? You could be shot dead and he could justify it with some horrible accusation of pedophilia.

And you couldn’t out Robin like that, no way. Her parents already spouted the same-old religious, homophobic talking points. She was already considered a ‘band geek,’ you couldn’t outcast her more than that and put her life in danger.

You had to go. You couldn’t do this to her. No way in hell.

Retrieving your bag from under the table, you step out, leaving your half-eaten lunch tray on the table as you quickly walked out of the cafeteria and to the parking lot.

Tears were blurring your vision as you drove through the misty rain, unsure of which was blocking your line of sight at what point, the two fading into one. The melancholy of the atmosphere continued as you parked in your driveway, throwing off your seatbelt, and bolting into your bedroom.

Your parents were fortunately at work, the loud clamoring of clothes being tossed around your bedroom echoing through the four corners of your house, your body frantically searching for everything you may need.

You need to get out. You couldn’t stay here any longer.

You were about to throw your journal in with your unorganised, messy clothes, when a sudden thought struck your mind. No matter how much you wanted to escape the world you lived in, you couldn’t leave your love like this. Robin deserved some form of closure.

So, ripping a page scruffily from your notebook, the edges uneven and jagged, you collected the closest pen from your bedside table and ripped the cap off with your teeth.

Your handwriting was scruffy, almost unintelligible as you poured your heart and soul onto the page. Small droplets were staining the page, smudging the ink and creating little tears in the thin material. It was chaotic and tangled, but it needed to be done.

Once finished, the journal itself, along with a few of your stationery items, were shoved into the suitcase, the letter folded in half as it was placed at the top of your rucksack, just above the cassettes and books.

Towing your suitcase behind you, rucksack hanging off one shoulder, you made your way back out into the torturous heavy rain. Luckily for you, Robin only lived a ten-minute walk away from your house, and since it was only 1:30pm, assuming she hadn’t rushed home out of worry for your wellbeing, you could open her bedroom window and slip the note onto her bed.

You felt bad for leaving her like this, but it was the best thing for both of you. You would never live a peaceful life if you willingly put your girlfriend in danger. Even worse if she got physically hurt.

This wasn’t just exclusive to Jason’s group of hooligans. They were terrifying enough, but what about the rednecks and rich, snobby business owners who would shoot you on sight? Who you definitely couldn’t put up a fight with?

If you wanted to live a sapphic life, you needed to do that in a somewhat safer place. And that place was definitely not Hawkins.

Robin’s worries had been flying high ever since she saw that lonely half-eaten lunch tray reminiscing in the absence of you. She had to eat lunch alone for the first time in forever, and it was honestly torture without your presence around her.

As soon as that last bell rung signalling the end of the school day, she was out in a flash, shoving all of her books in her bag, not even bothering to switch anything out in her locker. She could organise that tomorrow. She needed to find you. And she needed to do it quickly.

The moment she noticed your car had disappeared, she was hopping right onto the school bus, praying that the journey would be fast, at least fast in her mind. She couldn’t let her concerns invade her brain much longer.

She practically sprinted into her bedroom, only saying a quick “Hi!” to her mom as she burst into the room.

Her plan was to head to the phone, immediately dialing your home phone number and impatiently waiting for you to answer on the other end.

But, the note was impossible not to spot. She knew it wasn’t hers. She keeps everything in her journal nice and neat.

She was nervous as hell, carefully picking up the piece of paper between her dampened fingertips and lifting up the top, revealing your disordered handwriting.

“Hi, my love.

These last few months have truly been amazing with you, but I really can’t be with you any longer.

This has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with me. I just need some time to myself to clear my thoughts, and I don’t think having this many burdens on my shoulder is helping our relationship in any way.

I’m sorry for putting all of this on you like this, and I’m sorry for being so much of a fucking coward not to say this to your face. I hate to have to end things like this.

I’m sorry, and I hope you find someone who is good for you one day.

Your Y/N.”

Robin couldn’t believe what she had just read. Did you really think that your problems were causing harm to her? She would listen to you talk and ramble for hours on end about anything from a life-changing major event, to a minor thing that ticked you off at school. In no way were you causing her life harm. If anything, she would happily sacrifice her own problems for yours. You were the most important thing in the world to her.

She couldn’t end the relationship like this. She didn’t want to end the relationship at all.

She needed to find you. She would search to the ends of the Earth to find you.

Shoving the note in her back pocket, she left the room she only entered a few minutes ago. It was her mission to find you. With a quick, panicked yell of “I’m heading to Y/N’s!” to her mom, Robin was dashing back out the front door with her bike helmet and riding off down the street.

She was not letting you go. She was gonna talk about this with you. She was going to find out what was truly wrong.

Robin felt as if she checked everywhere. She tried your house, Lover’s Lake, even the goddamn mall, yet you weren’t there.

Her worries were increasing, and she needed to find you fast, making sure you weren’t hurting yourself in any way.

The main roads in Hawkins seemed to be getting busier and busier as the end of the work day came ahead, so she decided to use one of the quieter routes to get back to her house. It was a dumb thought process, but she was just going to keep calling and calling when she got back home in hopes that even by the 100th ring, you would pick up and speak to her with that gorgeous voice of yours.

She was carefully riding down the road, trying not to let any of her emotions visibly show. She wasn’t that great of a rider, she couldn’t risk falling off her bike and scraping up her knees again.

But, that is when she saw you. You were cuddled up in a ball on the bus stop bench, the lack of shelter meaning your rain jacket was soaked through, your body practically shivering in the cold February rain. Beside you was your purple suitcase, seemingly packed to the brim, and your rucksack sat perched on your lap, desperately attempting to protect you from the harsh weather.

Robin basically fell off her bike, letting it crash to the ground, the wheels still spinning as she yelled, “Baby! Oh my God, are you okay?”

She tried to reach out for you, but your body immediately flinched away from her, your wrinkled fingers hugging your knees closer to your chest. It was now that Robin could see the stains of your teardrops creating violent patterns through your foundation, making themselves known to anyone who had access.

“Why are you crying, honey? What’s the matter?”

You remained silent, a few echoes of cries escaping your lungs, many sniffles seeking to recover from the intense emotion.

Robin felt as if she had no choice, reaching for the piece of paper that was in her back jean pocket, now a soaked mess from where the downpour had attacked her clothing.

“What is this?” she questioned, holding it in your line of sight, knowing that you could see it in your peripheral, “Why are you trying to escape me, baby?”

A few moments of silence pass, before a low whisper states: “I just can’t be with you anymore.”

Robin feels her mouth become instantly dry. What does that mean? Were you telling the truth in the letter? You couldn’t be… No way…

“Why not?” she delves deeper, “Because what you said in the letter doesn’t bother me at all, baby. I would listen to every worry on your mind. Don’t think you’re ever a burden to me, my love—”

“I just can’t be with you, okay?!”

The sudden outburst makes Robin’s heart break, but not more than the sound of the bus approaching, and you seemingly gathering up your things to flag it down.

Not even thinking, Robin grabs your jacket sleeve, almost touching her fingers to your palm, “Honey, wait a second.”

“Let go!” you yell in total fear. There were likely people on that bus, and obviously the driver. Why was she being so risky? You were gonna get her killed.

Robin’s eyes begin to well up, your sudden emotion really striking her off guard, “Talk to me, baby. Please! I can’t lose you!”

“I’m gonna get you killed!”

Robin’s stunned, lost for words. As if subconsciously, she waves her hand for the bus driver to continue on, not stopping for you. She doesn’t care if that was your plan, you obviously weren’t thinking logically and you were both emotionally and physically overwhelmed.

“What do you mean?” she says softly, almost at a whisper.

You sigh, using your sleeve to wipe away the tears before Robin could reach her own hands out to catch them herself, “A-At lunch today… Jason’s table were talking about a lesbian around here raping a minor. A-And of course that’s wrong if it’s true, but it’s what he said he would do to people like us which scared me…”

Robin shows a slight nod, encouraging you lovingly to continue, “H-He said he would hurt us. Attack us with his dad’s gun. K-Kill us. And I just thought about him or another person around here finding us at Lover’s Lake at night and me having no way to protect you, a-and I just couldn’t handle that, so I wanted to run away…”

Robin was about to reply, but you interrupted her once more, “Sorry, I just— I don’t think I can do that to you. I can’t put you in danger any more. I can’t change the fact that I am a lesbian and neither can you, but I can actively decide our fates. And I want you to live a happy and fulfilling life in the future.”

“But honey… I’m living that happy and fulfilling life right now,” Robin admits, taking a deep breath, “I love you.”

You shake your head, “You can’t! I’m gonna end up getting you hurt! You deserve to be safe!”

“I feel safe when I’m with you! Before I met you, I was scared more than ever!” Robin begins to raise her voice in pain and anguish, “And now, you make me feel so much safer, because you give me hope that everything is going to be okay someday. Yes, we may need to hide now, but in two years, I promise you we will be in a safer place, baby.”

“But what about Jason and the other homophobes around here? What if they hurt us?” you question in distress.

“Baby, I’d rather die tomorrow with you in my arms than die alone at ninety knowing that I let you go as a goddamn teenager.”

You slowly start coming to your senses, nodding as the tears continue to fall. You close your eyes as Robin checks her surroundings, before she cups your face and leans her forehead against yours.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, my love.”

“It’s okay, baby,” Robin whispers softly, “I love you. Two more years, okay? Just two more years of completely hiding.”

You nod, smiling weakly, “I love you too. Two years…”

taglist: @agxxb @robinsno1lesbian @agenderrat (no pressure for you to engage if this fic is too triggering for you <3)

[v3nusxsky]

Am I yours? 18+

*Authors note~ smut smut smut and more smut. Anyone else such a slut for weems? Also I apologise to the requester but I lost the ask I’m sorry :(*

Trigger Warnings~ sub l dom r (as many of you asked for more sub l) g!p r (I don't make the rules) degrading kink praise kink spit kink overstimulation kink oral daddy kink

Prompt~ Hey . Can you do a fic where dom R has a crush on sub L and ended up in L's bed that night with L . The next day when R expects love, L harshly asks her to leave the room. After crying for days, R tries to move on and spend time with another girl not love just friendship). Jealous L realizes her love for R, pleads and begs R to stay with her.

Still angry R punishes(sex) L for the previous ignorance ended up cuddling each other.

✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿

You'd always been crushing on your boss since day one. It wasn't something you had the confidence to be so forward with your advances. You like to be in control in the bedroom but when it came to making the first move, rejection was always something you feared. It hinders your confidence. But one night at the Nevermore staff party, some alcohol (okay a lot of alcohol) and a little bit of peer pressure from coach Valad you found yourself living your fantasies out in reality. The best night you could have ever imagined and you were slightly mad at yourself for being intoxicated, but you'd never forget what occurred between you and her.

You were woken by a gasp and the bed sheets being torn from your body, your morning wood on full display. Truly, you couldn't do much but blink away the sleepy haze in shock. "Isa?" You mumbled only to be hit with a pillow and a shriek from the blonde, "Get out! Get out! Get out!" You couldn't help but feel hurt and feel shocked at such a reaction, not what you were expecting after letting her see the real you, being so vulnerable with her only to now be kicked out from her room after spending the night together.

That's how you quilt shoved your clothing on and fled the room to escape what you assumed would be a hurl of insults about how unnatural and disgusting you are. How you shouldn't have slept with your boss. Yes you could definitely do without the abuse. You fled to your room where you would take up residence for the next three days, only leaving once a day to squash the tales of you being injured or something like that. You weren't eating or showering and sleep, you were haunted with the memories of that night and how it would never happen again. A freak of nature is what she called you in a nightmare.

Valad was fed up of you hibernating, not understanding why you weren't glowing since you finally got to sleep with your crush. Larissa seemed to be unusually irritated and quick to anger these days. So of course he had to do something, that's how Marilyn found herself knocking on your bedroom door. "Hi, Valad sent me. He said you might need some friendly company" she murmured to you through the door, only for you to completely ignore her. Marilyn tried for a while but you were not having any of it so she left your room, only to be spotted by Larissa. And well she put two and two together and came up with eight.

Being called into your bosses office wasn't exactly ideal with your present situation. You'd not spoken to her for three days, the rejection still fresh and lingering in your mind. What on earth could she be wanting you for at this time of night anyway was all you could grumble on the way to her office. Once there you were met with a seething blonde. Her rage was obvious but what had caused it couldn't be further from a unsolved mystery.  "You and Marilyn can not be sneaking around to see each other in school hours" the tall principal practically growled at you, "it's already forbidden that two teachers date! Imagine the scandal. It's like your trying to rub it in. God why can't you just see what's right in front of you!"

"Me? Really Larissa. Is that what this is? Jealousy. You know damn well there's no rules on relationships between staff members and you can't control who wishes to check on me after you threw me away like some unwanted toy. Discarded after I have no use. So if it's me that can't see what's in front of me then you know I'm in love with you! Yet you choose to ignore it so if that's all" you raged the emotion overbearing as tears trailed down your flushed cheeks. But before you could even turn to leave Larissa was up in your personal space before crashing her lips to yours in a desperate attempt to convey her true feelings. "Stay. Please. I'll do whatever I need to prove to you how foolish and sorry I am."

That was how Larissa found herself devoid of clothing and tied up on her bed. You were not showing her any mercy tonight, still upset about the fact she kicked you out. You were merciless with how you were eating her out, tongue curling just right as you lapped at her leaking cunt. Edging her over and over to make her feel some of the emotion you have. Tears leaking from her eyes as she begged and pleaded you to let her cum, "please please no more please daddy need to cum."

"More? Hmm okay" you teased, untying her restraints and settling yourself between her legs. Your rock hard cock pulsating with need. "Such a fucking slut, kicking me out then begging for me to fuck you again. What a whore, the principal of Nevermore begging like a cheep slut" you purred stroking your thick shaft. "Pathetic really, look at your tight little hole clenching around thin air. Such a cock slut, now open your mouth" she demanded, loving how she instantly complied. You then lined your dick up with her pussy and slipped in, to distract her you spat in her mouth and demanded she swallow like a good girl. And of course like a good little submissive she did just that.

The tears continued flowing as you practically hammered your cock in and out of her quivering hole. Both of you being worked up to a high where Larissa was desperately begging you to let her fly over that edge this time. Promising to be good for daddy and to never hurt your feelings again. Truthfully you felt you'd punished her enough but of course you weren't going to tell her that, rather you just continued brutally fucking her until she went cock drunk for you, her orgasms washing over her in powerful tidal waves of immense pressure. You followed seconds after, I mean how could you not? Her cunt suffocating your dick like this was making it hard to hold on this long.

Of course you came painting her walls white and you worked the poor blonde back down slowly as she cried for no more, her red puffy lips sore and swollen from overstimulation. "You did so good for me Isa, so good baby" you murmured giving her a sweet kiss before running off to find items to clean her up alongside some water. Once that was all settled you began to dress which seemed to startle the fucked out blonde, "where ? Stay please. I'm sorry. Stay. I love you." The last three words nearly not audible but you caught them. They single handedly warmed your heart and encouraged you back to bed where you could sleep holding the woman you love. Only when morning came you were blessed with sleepy cuddles and kisses rather than being hit with pillows this time.

Word count ~ 1329

[wannab-urs]

Faulty System

Graphic: Old Friends by James R. Eads

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x f!reader (i don’t really specify gender here, but the reader is afab in prior installments)

Summary: It’s easy to let all the bad parts of being with Dieter obscure the beauty of who he was. You try not to.  WC: ~900

Warnings: // in order // drug and alcohol use, Major Character Death (in the past), talking to your toxic mother, excessive cursing bc that’s how I talk sorry, discussion of mental illness, discussions of like idk… physical deterioration due to mental health and drug abuse, implied sex dream turned nightmare, no happy ending, trauma dumping (not in the fic, that’s just what I’m doing)

A/N: Thanks to @theywhowriteandknowthings and @atinylittlepain for reading and discussing with me <3 eternally fucking grateful to y’all. This fic is based somewhat loosely on the song Your Needs, My Needs by Noah Kahan, which is about watching someone you love become a ghost of themselves due to addiction. I know very few people want to read a pairing//x reader fic where the other half is dead, and I really appreciate all of you who read and love my Dieter fics. I don’t know how I can ever describe how it feels to have someone tell you they read the darkest parts of your soul and found something good in it. Love y’all. also i should probably wait to post this but i have no self control :)

Series Masterlist | Dieter Bravo Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi

You asked me why I wasn't sayin' a word I'm namin' the stars in the sky after you

A late night walk, something you do to get him out of the apartment. Giggling as you slip the hastily rolled joint from his teeth. You press it to your lips and draw acrid smoke into your lungs, push it back out into the humid air and walk through a haze of your own creation. You’re drunk, maybe. High, definitely. Dieter wraps his arms around you from behind and you awkwardly waddle-walk down the sidewalk, tangled up. 

He presses a kiss to the space behind your ear and you scrunch your shoulder up, shrugging him away. “Fuckin tickles!” You squirm away from him and break into a run, tossing the joint behind you, laughing and squealing as he chases you. You skid to a stop behind your usual tree in the park. Press your back into the bark. “I see you, baby. Can’t hide from me.” 

You make a break for it. A stumbling, stuttering start and his arms are around you in a flash, pulling you to his chest as he hits the ground on his back. Howling hyena laughter ringing in the quiet midnight air. He kisses you, sucking all the air right out of your lungs, breathing it back into you. You separate only to turn in his arms and crash back into him, hands fisting in his curls, bodies pressed together down to your toes. He makes you dizzy, a little sick, disoriented. 

You flop onto your back next to him, staring at the night sky awash with stars as you fight to catch your breath. You get quiet, gazing at the stars. He asks why. “Just thinking.” He waits for you to continue, knows to let you work it out first. 

“You burn so fucking bright, Dee. It lights up the whole sky.” He smiles and brings your hand to his chapped lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. 

You don’t tell him he’s like the stars you learned about from that space documentary you like to fall asleep to. They burn incredibly hot and bright. More than any other star. And then they burn out. They’re quick about it. They light up the night sky for this infinitesimal amount of time compared to something like a red dwarf. And then they’re gone, collapsing in on themselves and taking anything unlucky enough to be caught in their orbit with them.

“Only for you.”

You were a work of art That's the hardest part

A meeting with your mom, a year and change after. She’s sitting in his seat, probably doesn’t even realize. You can’t look at her, your eyes flicking between your untouched tea and the window. So many days spent lying under that tree, just across the street. Tugging each other by the hand into this coffee shop. Curling up in the booth and talking for hours. 

“I honestly don’t get why you’re still so upset. You were together for less time than it’s been since…” She trails off, not wanting to actually say the words. Since he died. “He hurt you. He’s still hurting you. He wasn’t good for you.” She says it matter of factly, like it’s common knowledge. 

“Don’t fucking tell me he wasn’t good for me. You don’t know that. No one fucking knew him like I did. No one even gave him a chance. I had to watch this brilliant man turn into a goddamn ghost in front of me and no one else even gave a shit.”

“He turned you into a ghost too.” 

You drag your palm across your face, smearing tears into your hairline. 

“The sad part is – we were fucking gorgeous together. It wasn’t always bad, you know? He made me feel alive and beautiful and fucking… real. Like no one ever had before. He was incredible. He was so fucking smart. Kind, talented. Wonderful. He was wonderful.” 

Trace the outlines of your dreams You'll always be a flower on my skin

A dream, a memory maybe. A blur of white sheets, dark curls tinged with blue paint. Gasps and sighs. Lips and tongue and teeth everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Eyes you never quite catch a glimpse of. Every feeling fleeting and just out of reach. Indents of fingers on your skin, dragging rough down your legs. These you feel. Hooking into you and nearly pulling you with him as he slips away. You swear you wake up with bloody streaks down to your calves. God it fucking hurts. 

Watching him slowly kill himself, knowing it was happening, and not being able to do a damn thing about it, that was the hardest part. Towards the… the end... Fuck. When lucidity completely escaped him, he was scared. Terrified of himself and everyone around him. In his rare moments of clarity he was always so bitter, so angry at himself for not being what you needed. He punished himself. Didn’t eat, didn’t sleep, didn’t speak. You think you hated him a little, by the end. 

Still. You don’t think you’re ever getting him out of your system. There was too much good in him to not forgive him for the bad. The rotten, broken, crumbling part at the center of him that took him from you. You watched him fall in on himself and you did nothing about it. Could do nothing about it. Helpless. 

You cross that county line I promise to be there this time, alright?

–-------------------

Series Masterlist

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Thanks for reading <3

I don't really do tag lists anymore usually but:

@ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @mandoisapunk @amanitacowboy @pamasaur @cool-iguana (and I'll just drop a link to the rest of ya <3)

[dip-the-pip]

saw your tag, why are you on a gmm strike? j curious.

tbf i guess rhett and link didn’t Do Anything but at the same time they didn’t….do anything

they did a fanfic vid couple years ago, with 3 explicit stories about them with usernames attached. Their audience is mainly cishet families. So having my nsfw story put on blast with my username that I had on here, ao3, and twitter made life a bit of a nightmare ._. had people finding my accounts and telling me what I did was disgusting and horrible, soo many people were posting about that episode making fun of the stories and the writers along with r&l

the thing is like. they didn’t ask. not that they have to, technically, but i had only been in the dnp space besides that, and the general agreement here is dnp leave the phan/fan stuff alone unless they ask for it and they try and make sure people are only submitting their own stuff, and they generally stay away from fics unless it’s a crack fic (skin fic, hat fic)

so like. i tried reaching out to r&l, gmm, stevie, matt (the one who wrote the episode) anyone to even just get my username removed from the video and never heard anything. then everyone was sorta like ‘uhhh ur overreacting, u wrote the fic, they read it, live with it’ even though it was just a fun stupid little hobby. i haven’t gone back to writing since, gmm/r&l just sorta leave a bad taste in my mouth now, I still get flushed and embarrassed when i think about it even though I’ve deleted most (all?) of my r&l fics. Like, i have close friends who watch gmm daily. I have family that watches gmm daily. I have to assume they watched that one and hope to god they didn’t bother looking up the usernames.

so yeah idk like that was a very hard stop for me watching gmm anymore bc i get genuinely nauseated. and at least with dnp like,, the audience is queer, whereas gmm is a Very cishet family oriented audience that do not involve themselves in fandom spaces

[lesbianloml]

Kidnapped

Type of piece(s): imagine, oneshot, drabble, series

Type(s) of writing: smut, angst, fluff, dark

Pairing(s): Kidnapper!Emo!Dom!Wanda Maximoff x Sub!Fem!Reader

Warning(s): dub con, mommy!kink, praise!kink, kidnapped!reader, bulge!kink, dom!wanda & sub!reader, more soft!dom!wanda in the beginning then hard!dom!wanda emo!Wanda is a warning of it's own, lacation!kink, a little bit of a breeding!kink, plugging, not necessarily little reader but when reader goes into sub space, she acts a lot like a little, pussy slapping, fingering (r receiving), oral (w & r receiving), magic!strap on (Wanda can feel it as though she has a dick) sex (r receiving), face sitting (r receiving), nipple play, overstimulation, 7 forced orgasms, spanking as punishment, just smut in general.

Summary: wanda kidnapped you because she was obsessed. She agreed to give you three chances before punishing you (aka, fucking you into oblivion). When you reach your third strike, how will Wanda punish you?

A/N: This is my first smut fic! Let me know what you think and how I can improve. Enjoy!

You jerked up, looking around. Your heart was racing and chest heaving but from what? You didn't remember having a nightmare. Whatever. You stood up, analyzing your surroundings. As you looked out the window, you realized where you were. A couple weeks prior, you had helped the Avengers save Sokovia, no damage to the land done. You were in a house in downtown Sokovia. You ran over to the door and to your surprise, it was unlocked. You ripped it open and ran outside. "Help! Help! Sir, I need help." Then it hit you. Not many people in Sokovia spoke English. Shit.

You turned around to walk in the other direction when you saw Wanda. "Wanda? I need help. I've been kidnapped and-. Why are you laughing?" Wanda let out a chuckle as you realized. Wanda kidnapped you. You spun around and started to run in the opposite direction when Wanda grabbed your wrist, yanking you back roughly. "I suggest you don't do that, maylsh. Don't wanna make Mommy angry, do you?" You whimpered at the nickname she gave herself as she pulled you against her, your breasts squishing together. Wanda started to drag you back inside, squeezing your wrist so hard you felt it would break. "Let me go!" You screamed. Wanda looked at you angrily, tilting her head. (GIF shown above) "Now. You are making Mommy angry. You are making it worse for yourself." She said, pulling you inside.

"Wanda, why are you so mad?" You asked her, as she closed and locked the front door behind you and began to drag you upstairs to the room you were in. "First of all, that's not my name and you know that printcessa. Second of all, you tried to escape. Again." "What do you mean? This is the-" you were cut off as you felt memories rushing back. Wanda had kidnapped you 2 weeks ago. She told you that you had three strikes then she'll punish you. And, shit. This was the third time.

"Wait. Wanda, stop." You said, finally starting to pull against her. As you continued pulling, she spun you around, pinning you against the wall. "Detka. Every time you make me angry, I add 10 more to your 1st punishment and 1 more to your 2nd. You are going to be very sorry to have crossed Mommy today. She was already in a bad mood and you just made it worse. So I suggest you listen to Mommy and stop pulling." "Ok." You whispered, looking at the floor. "Good girl." You reached the room and she closed and locked the door behind her.

Before you could get a word out to reason with her, you were pinned against the door, Wanda's lips slamming onto yours roughly. Your noses clashed and Wanda was kissing your lips with such a bruising force that when she finally pulled away to tear your shirt in half, you were dizzy with lust. "No! Wanda, we can't!" Wanda tore your shirt off of you and unclipped your bra with surprisingly steady fingers. "Look at these beautiful tits. And you all really expected me to just leave you alone." She said, rolling your nipples between her fingers.

You whimpered loudly. "Wanda. Stop! Please!" You choked out as she started to suck and nip and your skin on your neck and breast, leaving dark purple hickeys all over. "That's not my name, kotenok. What's my name, sweetheart? I wanna hear you say it." You shook your head, being stubborn. "Oh, little one. I need to make sure you can say it now so that your ready to scream it later." She said, in a condescending tone. "What is my name, malyshka?" She asked again. When you didn't respond, she unbuttoned your pants. "Fine, wanna be a brat. I'll treat you like a brat." Wanda muttered. She ripped your jeans and panties off and stood back, admiring your naked form.

"So pretty, sweet girl. And its all mine. And oh! You're dripping all over my hand." She looked you straight in the eyes, even though the height difference was like her looking down on you. She looked at you as she shoved three fingers into your tight hole, thrusting them in and out so fast your legs buckled and she had to hold you up with her magic. "Wanda! Slow down please!" "What's my name, pretty girl?" As she shoved a fourth finger in, you choked on a moan of "Mommy!"

"That's right, detka." She continued fingering you as she went down with her other hand to circle your clit. "Mommy, please can I come?! Please. Please. Please." You continued your chant as you grew closer and closer to the edge. "Of course you can. You can come as many times as I want." You let out a moan of "Mommy!" as you came for the first time out of many that were to happen.

"Now, show me how good you can make Mommy feel." She said, grabbing your hair and pushing you to your knees. She used the makeshift ponytail she made and pulled you toward her cunt as you starting kitty licking and nipping. Suddenly, she just held your head still. You didn't understand what she was doing until she starting grinding her pussy all over your face, her juices spreading all over you. You just stuck your tongue out and let her use you like the good slut you are. "Doing so good. My good girl. Making Mommy feel so good." She muttered the entire time and finally let a choked moan as she came. She pulled you up and said, "don't forget, honey. This is a punishment."

Wanda walked over and sat on the bed. "Come here and bend over my lap." "No!" You whimpered. "That's another ten added. Get over here now, maylsh." "Yes, Mommy." You whispered, bending over her legs. "Good girl. Now, count. If I don't hear you, it doesn't count." She told you as she slapped your left ass cheek, hard. "One!" And she kept going like that. She got all over. The center of your ass, your left and right ass cheeks, the top and bottom of your thighs. You knew you wouldn't be able to sit without it hurting for weeks. "Fifty!" You whimpered out, sobbing.

"Good job, little one. Such a good girl for her Mommy. You're gonna keep being good right?" "Yes, Mommy. M'sorry for trying to leave." You moved to go lay down when she slapped your ass and you whimpered from the pain. "Oh, you didn't think your punishment was over yet, did you?" She moved you to where you were sitting on the edge of the bed and she knelt down in front of you, spreading your legs.

She leaned down and started to suck on your clit, kitty licking your pussy up and down. "Look at this pretty cunt. All for me. No one else's. You understand me?" You didn't answer and she slapped your cunt, hard. "I said, do you understand me, kitten?" It wasn't a question, more of a statement. "Yes, Mommy. Oh god!" You moaned as she started sucking, licking, and nipping your pussy again. You felt her tongue enter you and you reached the edge for the second time, you tried to tell Wanda but you couldn't seeing as you were already coming. Wanda didn't mind though and helped you ride through your high.

"What a good girl!" You glowed at the praise as Wanda moved to lay on the bed. "Come sit on my face baby." You didn't want to seeing as you were already sore after two orgasms, but you wanted to keep being Mommy's good girl so you did as she said. As you sat, you whimpered from the overstimulation as Wanda latched onto your clit, abusing and sucking it. "Mommy, it hurts!" "I know, darling. That's the point." You could feel her smirk against your pussy. You came faster this time than the first and second time. You screamed, "Mommy! Please." As you came for the third time. So overstimulated, you tried to get off of Mommy's face. But Wanda had her arms latched around your thighs, keeping you down.

She brought you to a fourth and fifth orgasm while you on her face. When she finally let you get up, you were sobbing and her face was covered in your arousal. She put you to where you were resting on your knees on the bed. "Mommy, no! Can't take anymore! Please! I'll be good!" "You will take what you are given, baby girl." She walked into the bathroom before coming out with a strap fastened to her. It was big. Bigger than anything you'd ever taken. It was extremely long and very thick. You stared at it and Wanda listened to your thoughts. "Sweet girl, we'll make it fit."

She lay on her back on the bed, cock sticking straight up. "Come here, pretty girl. Ride my cock." You just wanted to be good for Mommy so you started to sink down on her dick. When she whimpered, you looked to see why. "Mommy? Are you ok?" "Oh I'm fine detka. This is a special cock. I can feel everything." As the head entered your hole, you groaned. "Hurts" you whimpered. You continued to sink down until you were full. "Oh sweetheart. This isn't even halfway! Such a dumb little baby. Can't do anything herself so Mommy has to do it for her." She said as you lifted yourself off of her.

She grabbed your hips tight and pulled out entirely. When the head was just poking your folds, Wanda lifted you up and slammed you down. As you took her huge cock to the hilt, you saw stars as you screamed "Mommy!" "Well since you can't do it, Mommy has to." She told you, flipping you both and beginning to thrust quickly. You were sobbing from the overstimulation and the pain. But then the pain became pleasure and you were moaning and whimpering with how good it felt.

Wanda grabbes you hand and pulled it down to your lower abdomen, putting pressure on the moving bulge of her, which was so far in it made an indent in your stomach. You moaned as she pushed down. "You feel me, pretty girl? This is my spot, my spot and no one else's. No one else can make you feel this good, can they?" You didn't respond so she pulled out and thrust back in entirely again. "Answer me!" "No! Only you Mommy! Only you can make me feel this good!" You screamed as you came for a sixth time.

"No more, Mommy! Please no more!" "Oh but baby. Mommy hasn't come yet. You do want Mommy to feel good don't you?" You nodded as her thrusts got sloppy and Wanda came, her hand snaking down and pinching your clit, sending you over the edge. There was so much come from Wanda's strap, it was bloating your stomach. Wanda walked into the bathroom, removing the strap, getting a plug and a wet washcloth. She plugged your hole with the plug she brought. "So that all of Mommy's come stays in you. Then I'll fill you up with my babies." You processed what she said but you were too sore to argue, which I'm sure is what she was going for. You whimpered as she ran the warm washcloth on your pussy and thighs.

She stood back and admired her work. You. Ass and thighs red and purple, pussy plugged, tummy bloated with Mommy's come, cunt bright red, and clit swollen and puffy. "Mommy, I'm thirsty. Do you have any milk please?" "I do." She said, lifting you up and you laying on your back on her lap. She put her boob in your mouth and you started to suck. You moaned as you felt milk pour onto your tongue. You sucked until it was empty, then you moved onto the other breast. Even after they were both empty, you continued sucking on one like it was a binky. Wanda just sat and read a book. As you were drifting off, you heard Wanda say. "You're never going to run away from me again, are you little one?" "No, Mommy. I love you. M'never leavin you." "I love you too sweet girl."

Let me know if you want a part 2! Please, request some ideas you have! I would love to do some! Reblogs are much appreciated because it helps me spread some of my work around. Likes and comments are appreciated too! Thanks for reading.

[datawyrms]

Truce time!

Hi @noxposting :v you got me as your secret gift giver. You get fic this year, because art and I look at one another with wary stares until the other backs down. Hopefully you enjoy it? I tried to add bits of multiple prompts but :v crypid danny going to a coffee shop won out. mostly. heh. On Ao3

Barista. Not exactly the pinnacle of anyone’s career, heck, many would call it a low point. Not Valerie though. She knew the real pits of food based service, thanks. It didn’t even involve food! That hideous mascot outfit reeked worse than a dumpster on a warm summer evening on a GOOD day; and anyone that saw you managed to treat you WORSE than that! Which was probably the whole point, when you got ‘promoted’ to cash or the grill you’d actually feel grateful. Seeing your face sure didn’t stop everyone from being the worst human they can be, but enough were too cowardly to be as rotten when the threat of spitting in their food was right there.

It didn’t help with the looks about someone ‘young’ working at a burger place so ‘soon’, and the next time someone asked if she should be in school on a Saturday was getting a special side seasoning of knuckles. If she didn’t need the money, she wouldn’t be working!

So yeah, in short? Getting hired at a coffee shop was a major step up from the Nasty Burger. Like, who calls a place Nasty Burger? She might not be the biggest fan of coffee either, but at least she wasn’t reeking of grease and having weird sauce explosion nightmares anymore. (The training videos about the Nasty sauce were ridiculous, there was no way you could legally keep something that explosive and give it to people to eat, why so graphic?)

Sure, fewer people from school dropped by here, but that was sort of a plus too. Even if it wasn’t as embarrassing to be seen working once free of mascot duty, it still didn’t feel great to watch how everyone else in class got to have fun while she worked for peanuts. Having some easy ways to slack off and chat a bit on slower days was nice though. Usually only bored old ladies wanted to chat here, and not about anything remotely interesting. 

Sam Manson was the only person she’d recognized today, but she didn’t really count. Valerie didn’t know what the goth girl’s deal was, but she always acted like she was trying to ‘steal’ her friend. Which yeah okay, she did date Danny for a bit, but it’s not like Sam even tried to date him first! Having more friends or romantic interests wasn’t going to kill the guy, seriously. In her opinion, Sam was way more likely to hurt Danny than she was. Maybe Sam should look at herself instead of getting all weirdo over-protective. Whatever. At least she didn’t make the same old person joke every single customer thought she never heard before. Paid, got enough sugar for her drink to reasonably be considered a soft drink, and left her alone. Easy.

Valerie got back to cleaning up her work area, there wasn’t more for her to accomplish just staring at the sitting area. The bell at the door would let her know if she had to turn around.

Which it did, twenty minutes later. It wasn’t Sam leaving, but some new guy wanting an order. Normal. Except Sam wasn’t sitting alone anymore. When had Danny got here? It wasn’t with Sam- she saw her come in alone. At the same time as new customer guy? Only if he could teleport. Pretty sure the Fentons didn’t have a magic teleporter invented yet, or there’d be way more weird ghost hunter home invasions.

She wasn’t staring. She wasn’t. Took an order, made it, put the cash in the register all without staring at the weirdness of a suddenly appearing ex. Totally.

Danny didn’t even do coffee! Why would he be here? You’d think someone so constantly tired would at least try coffee for the caffeine kick- but he acted like she suggested he stick his tongue in a blender when she asked if that’s what he kept in his thermos one day. Kind of a weird overreaction, but that was just Danny. It was kind of cute in a way, like he needed big reactions to get noticed at all. Considering his family though… she could get it.

If there weren’t more customers coming she might have gone over and asked if he wanted anything. Even if Manson would have been catty about it. She wasn’t scary, just loud.

Mostly people going to join the first guy who ordered. Friends meeting up, probably. Did it matter? No, but thinking about it gave her something to do as her feet got sore and staring while cleaning got boring.

Nosy friends. Sam wasn’t happy, judging by the death glares. Like she wasn’t ever loud with Danny or Tucker. Sheesh.

“Hey Val, can I get a water?”

She blinked once, twice. Danny had not gotten to the counter that fast. Without even making a sound against the slick tile floor. Yet there he was, shy half grin on his face, rubbing the back of his neck like he was asking for a big favour.

“Sure, but it’s gotta be in the dinky little cup. That alright?” It was a dumb policy, but that was jobs for you. What was he going to do with a coffee cup full of cold water, make ‘illegal tea’? Who cares?

“Totally. Thanks.” Danny’s grin grew, almost a bit too much for a guy getting a baby cup of tap water.

It was weird. The hairs on the back of her neck shouldn’t be acting up from Danny just being a bit of a goof over water. She forced the stupid feeling down as she handed over the drink and shook her brain back to reality. “No problem. Nasty Burger closed or something?”

“Nah. Tuck’s just grounded and Sam wanted to go somewhere that didn’t reek of cooking animals,” he said, adding playful air quotes to reek before taking the cup. “Those guys don’t seem like they’re locals, what do you think?”

“Listen, after like two hours you all look the same.” Valerie answered with an eye roll, earning another laugh from the boy. “I don’t think I’ve seen them here before though, no.”

“Elmerton, maybe?”

“Maybe? I don’t get paid enough to pay that much attention to them.” Valerie rubbed her forehead before looking at Danny again. Somehow he’d gotten even worse at making conversation! Who cares about some slightly noisy table group?

“We’d find out pretty quick if there was a ghost attack.”

Danny was joking, obviously, but it didn’t keep her from leaning over to hiss “Don’t you dare speak bad luck into my day, Fenton” under her breath.

“Okay, okay! I’m totally not doing that,” he held up his hands in mock surrender, but the easy smile stayed in place.

Sometimes she really wanted to strangle the stick of a boy. Ghosts weren’t funny! He knew that! Some were pathetic, but still not funny. “Good.”

Danny gave a little wave, nearly spilling the thimbleful of water that could fit in the sad little cup as he headed back to the looming thunderstorm that was Sam.

Maybe she was glaring as much as the goth was, she kept feeling the need to blink or rub at her eyes, but they didn’t feel dry. Weird. Her suit would warn her of any real danger from spectral pests, but she could do without randomly feeling really off for no reason.

Oh! She was just feeling weird because it wasn’t so loud anymore. That was all. The uncomfortable chill and too long shadows were just in her head. The noisy group kept looking around and fidgeting in their seats instead of just loudly saying everything and everything. Sam was comfortable enough, even if it looked like the light on her side of the room had died, leaving her and Danny lurking in shadows that kept creeping closer and closer to the other group- not literally.

She shook her head. She needed a break. Pushing back into the employee’s only section would give her a moment to drink some water and wake up before she started seeing things.

–

“Pushing it a bit? She totally almost caught you.”

“But she didn’t.” Danny pushed Sam’s comment away as he slid out of his seat. “Besides, I thought you wanted me to get ‘em to shut up a bit.”

“I did. You’re just being extra,” Sam rolled her eyes, watching the now quite cowed group of out-of-towners.

Danny gave a loose shrug, shoulders weirdly out of tune with the movement that should be all about them. “I’m hungry! No one local ever gets scared of easy stuff anymore,” his arm twitched as he spoke, a faint green twisting and twining through his skin. It seemed to thread through skin and muscle, pulsing and pulling bits from beneath before sliding back into smooth skin again, a secret no one was meant to really see.

Sam pointedly avoided looking at that arm. She didn’t try to tell him to be more careful again either.

Danny’s grin slid a bit too far to be comfortable on a human face before he moved closer to the group that kept looking for the door. “Hey. Did any of you guys see the light switch? It’s kind of dark here.”

It was dark in here. On a bright sunny day, with all the windows open. It shouldn’t be- but ghosts hardly cared about what ‘shouldn’t’ be. He wanted it to be dark- and his powers obliged. Eagerly, even. Happy, delighting that instead of squabbling and fighting with another ghost he was going to do what they were meant to do. Scare the daylights out of the living. Grab the feeling and emotion and life his own chest forgot how to feel some days. More and more often, lately.

“No? I-I didn’t really see anything.” The first person tried to answer back, failing to match Danny’s easy smile, leaning further back in his chair as Danny leaned forward, a tilt to his head.

“Really? Darn. Maybe one of you can help me out?”

It was funny. He was totally still ‘Danny Fenton’ right now, asking a very casual question in an easy way but everyone lurched back as if he asked to rip out their teeth. “I totally get it if you can’t though. I just have bad luck with switches.”

He reached out, arm twitching again in an awful, too loose way. Like he’d popped it out of his arm socket but it kept slowly reaching towards his target as it twisted and seemed to burn. Neon green scarring burst out from his fingertips and spread as he got closer and closer and flared into a painful glow as they screamed and tried to back away from him.

His friends didn’t do much better, scrambling away and abandoning their friend to the ‘terrifying thing’ casually just walking after him.

“What are you! Get back!”

Danny ignored the panicked pleading, only grinning as the others found the door to be locked. “Huh? I’m just a guy asking you for help?”

“No you aren’t! You-you-you’re some monster!”

His eyes flashed green as he put his twisted, burning, scarring arm to his chest. “A monster? Really?” The green scarring spread like the electricity that first caused it- the damage throwing his whole body into a sickly painful looking glow. “Is that what you see?”

His target tripped as he tried to escape, tangled in his own legs and shaking too much to really gain any ground even as Danny didn’t move above walking speed. “If I’m such a monster, how about you tell me how it feels?”

The shriek was enough to hurt his ears for a second as he reached forward and grabbed the unfortunate human, the rolling  green transferred over for only seconds before it leapt back to Danny, slowly fading back under his skin and taking all the horrific damage with it.

The doors had unlocked, letting all the others escape as he rocked on his heels, waiting for the one who’d passed out from sheer terror to get back up. It wasn’t as if he ACTUALLY felt how awful that day was. It was a fraction, a hint of his own memory. Not fatal. Just absolutely terrifying. 

“And Sam calls me dramatic.” Danny muttered, nudging them again with his foot before joining Sam back at the table. He could just say the others pranked him and left him if Valerie was annoyed at the unconscious person on the floor.

After all, it wasn’t as if any ghost was here. She’d know about an ‘attack’. He’d just gotten his own kind of snack.

[heranubis]

dullahans first serious cod fic? more likely than you think. originally started this after a bad night of missing my brother and decided to cope writing price. turns out i don't hate this so i decided to polish it up and post it.

major trigger warnings for: referenced sibling death (non graphic but relevant to fic), vaguely accurate angels

UNTIL THE AIR GOES QUIET: archangel john price r/insert (non descriptive) - 1.4k word count

Ever since you were a child, you would talk to angels. Your grandmother would say you had a gift, speaking to God’s children. But that’s not how you saw it. This was a curse. You see them beyond their vessels, not just people but with the changing heads of animals with too many tongues and too sharp teeth. They always smile at you but it feels more a threat than anything gentle or kind. The angels scare you – they know that, yet still they remain. It only gets worse when you lose your brother.

They wear his face sometimes. His red hair and brown eyes. You sit down with your dead brother for dinner again. It’s the last dream you ever want to have. And there’s a new angel – one who smells of blood and iron and his face weathered. He visits you the most often, says his name is John – privately, you call him Judas. He sits with you and your brother, his wings folded against his back, looking deceptively small as he simply sits and observes. He makes you uncomfortable with how much he sees and little he says, but he is always there. John is your new constant, even when the dreams with your brother stop. John is your only constant now; the others seem afraid of him – and part of you can’t help but wonder why.

You don’t dream anymore, but he keeps guard. No nightmare dares get close when John stands guard over your bed with his wings bound tight and arms folded over his chest. He stands tall and proud, every bit of the soldier he was created to be. “They won’t hurt you,” he says, his voice is scratchy, like he hasn’t had to use it in a long time. “I won’t let them close. Sleep as long as you need to.” And you do – for several days and as many nights, you sleep undisturbed. John never removes from his position of guard.

    -

    Something has changed with this angel – when you look at him you no longer see the heads of bears, wolves, and boars; you simply see a man. His eyes are tired and blue and he smiles so gently at you, as if anything sharper and you will break. He looks at you like he cares, like he wants good and gentle things for you. One day, you work up the bravery to ask why. “Grief is love with no place to go” he says and there is a sadness, a sense of knowing in his eyes. “As you are, once I was” are the last words your angel speaks.

His vow of silence lasts many years – he remains in your shadow, but he does not speak again. He kneels with you, when you pray for your brother, but his lips do not move nor does he fold his hands or close his eyes. There is an anger there, something that bubbles beneath the surface, waiting for eruption. The other angels speak to you again – tell you of John’s punishment. You pray for his absolution – for his sins to be forgiven and his tongue freed of its burden. Not for the first time, your prayers go unanswered.

You don’t believe in god anymore – you like to believe she loved you, once upon a time. What is a mother's love if not giving away her most faithful son and sending him to guard the sheep who has lost its flock. What mother is more worshipped than the one who carves the staff that keeps wolves at bay. What mother turns her back on the creations she crafted with such tenderness that you have both a heart to break and ribs to crack. God tells you he is forgiven – and then she splits you open.

The angels say they love you, but they look upon you with eyes of scorn and judgement. Your back has never born wings, yet the scars remain between your shoulder blades. You have taken John’s punishment as your own, and he speaks to you when not another soul is around to hear. “Never tell anyone,” he whispers in the dead of night – his lips to your ear and all you can feel is how his beard scratches against your skin, how rough and soothing it is. “Try and remember that. Never tell anyone anything, ever again.”

You take his words to your very soul – you will never tell anyone of the way your angel looks at you. You do not repeat his secrets – they are yours now, and they will die with you. He tells you one night, as he holds you close to his chest. “Look hard at my wings. There will be no more after me.” And you do – you memorize every feather even as they bleed and meld with his skin and muscle. That is truly the final night you dream, and it is the one that scares you most.

You see god’s face – except there is no face. She is everything and nothing, beautiful and horrible and god. “Your life was never meant to be punishment,” she tells you. “Those are not your scars to carry, sweet one.” You cannot see her eyes, but you can feel as they stare deeply into you, everything you have been or will be. “You are hiding” she says, the silence from before long and heavy and gone. “Why”

“To hide the fact that it’s me.” you finally say – and your voice is not fully your own. John is there, in your shadow, as he always is. You can feel his stare on you, feel his wings as they wrap around you like a shield from her gaze. “To make up for the fact I want to run away, but instead I sit very still. Because I’m afraid.” His wings are hiding you completely now, his face cradled in the crook of your neck and arms wrapped tightly around you, as if afraid you’ll disappear the second he lets go. Your next words are to the man behind you – and you know he knows. “I love you, I don’t know if you like me. I want you to.”

“My child – your angel loves you. He has loved you in every life, and it is his purpose of creation to find you, to covet and adore – but he cannot keep you. Your angel loves you. Let your heart be uncomfortable with that until you find healing.”

That night is the last time you hear god speak – it is the first time your eyes open to John wrapped around you. His wings are curled around you like a shell, a barrier from the outside world. He loves you – that is his punishment. You want to be yourself again, you want to stop knowing everything that you know. He opens those hauntingly blue eyes, and you only see the face of a man. “We are made to serve,” he whispers. His voice is as gentle as his touch as he buries his face (his shame) between the scars on your back. “I hope you want more for us, too.”

  -

  You don’t hear the angels anymore. You were merciful, and now all will know of you – that's what John says to fill the silence. Your kindness does not save you from the sin of loving that which is forbidden, but it earns you sympathy, affection. He tells you of the whispers, things that will never reach your ears. You are young and learning how to live, so they will watch over you just as John has.

They will keep you safe, they will love you as one of their own. But mainly they say it’s ok that you loved John. He is big and old and scarred, they said he would be loved. They say it cannot be a mistake to have loved, it cannot be an error to have tried. it cannot be incorrect to have tried.

There is only one more thing they say before all is silent except for John’s snores beside you – he loves you. Your brother, who has seen your angel in the dreams and given him his blessing. Your brother, who knows he leaves you in good and gentle hands. Your brother, who knows your angel who has forsaken his wings to live with you in this life. Your brother, who has denied this love it’s inevitable tragedy.

There is no one left to love you, so John will love you.

[grimdarkfandango]

Fandom Peeps to Get to Know Better

got tagged in an ask meme by @saltedpin thank you!!! I love oversharing on the internet!!!

3 Ships you like: god. okay. be cruel then.

Winter/Kitten - yes we're leading with OCs deal with it SOMETIMES you take a beloved archetype pairing, reshape them like silly putty, put them in separate dnd games, and spend four years running continuous RP with a partner in multiple different au variations because they are perfect actually (shout out to @andromeda-reinvented for literally keeping me sane and fed :prayer emoji:)

Kitten is my husband and also my phone lockscreen and has never done anything wrong in his life (the murders are fine)

Songxue - this is the wizard behind the curtain of winter/kitten, but they are different for all that they're the same. otherwise, uh. see above for all other applicable details lmao

Endhawks - the DRAMA the DILFYNESS the LEGEND look all of my pairings need a certain level of unhealthy devotion and self-sacrifice and not to spoil the current manga chapters for anyone but [blood seeps from my mouth as I start screeching incoherently] anyway yeah big man hot little guy feral

Ganlink - hey riley why are you putting an unnecessary fourth pairing, did you think we weren't already very clearly aware of your type here. no. okay. sure. big man hot little guy feral!!!!!

First Ship Ever: oh god bro I don't know if I have the memory details for that. the first ships I remember going and reading fic for were bandom (*nsync, JC/Lance, yes you heard me) or probably good old gundam wing 1x2, despite having seen approximately none of the show lmao

Last song you heard: Nightmares by the sea - jeff buckley when I started / The life I was missing - flannel graph when I finished (all off my Winter playlist. it's 12hrs long)

Favourite childhood book: I was one of those advanced reader kids who turned up my nose at kids books and for many years almost exclusively read sf/f off dad's bookshelf, which is a long way of saying it was the full ten book run of the belgariad and the mallorean, which I would reread twice a year between the ages of 9-16

is it my favourite now? god no. but I cannot deny what shaped me

Currently Reading: I just started the first Dragonlance book so, I guess, some things don't change

Currently Watching: everything currently airing on Dropout, also The Expanse (finally)(slowly)(I like it too much to binge I think)

Currently Craving: D I N N E R

Tagging: HMMMM ok @andromeda-reinvented, @bigneonglitter, @oldcoyote, @prairie-grass, and anyone else who wants to just say I tagged u!!!

[sweetrevxnge]

Like Phantoms, Forever

Chapter Seventeen | The Shadow of the Past

Pairing: Ben Solo x Reader

Summary: Your destiny had never been clear to you, only becoming so when it led you to leaving behind the life you knew to train with the galaxy's sole Jedi Master, Luke Skywalker. His Jedi Academy became your new home, bringing with it the promise of someday becoming a Jedi Knight. While navigating the ways of the Force, an inexplicable connection forms between you and a fellow student—the heir to the legendary Skywalker bloodline, Ben Solo. Together, the two of you must face your destinies and forge the path to your true selves.

What to expect: fluff, violence, sexual content, general angst, mentions/descriptions of injury and death

Additional info: this story is set in 28 ABY, six years prior to the events of TFA

*concurrently being published on AO3 and Wattpad as well!

Masterlist

Spotify Playlist

Word count: 3.6k

Chapter-specific CW: description of injury, pharmaceutical drugs, mentions of death, light ptsd

A/N: listen... I know I'm slow to update, but this chapter is hands down one of my favorite ones so far, so I needed it to be p e r f e c t. I also uploaded ch. 2 of my vampire!kylo fic, so there's a little extra something for you guys. enjoy!

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When you finally woke, the first thing you saw was the soft glow of the twin suns peaking over the horizon, spilling through the blinds and onto the infirmary floor. For a moment, there was peace. A piece of time filled with utter tranquility as you blinked the sleep away from your eyes.

But it passed. A haze fell over you, dulling your senses like an old knife as it carved into a bone. The clarity of your vision faltered, producing a double image of every item of furniture in the room. Various machines beeped around you, a constant, low drone in your ears. The white light of the overhead lamps seemed blinding to your sensitive eyes. 

Hanging beside you was a green bag, feeding into a translucent line that stopped in the crease of your elbow. Below the bag was a screen, flashing with words in Aurebesh that were too small for you to make out.

Yet, something else was missing. Something that had grown overly familiar to you in the past few days. There was no pain. No pounding in your head, or ache in your shoulder. It was gone, but not eliminated. It had only been buried, locked away deep inside of you, held back by the cocktail of chemicals coursing through you.

Over the drone of the monitors, you could faintly hear a hushed conversation, happening somewhere on the other side of the white curtain that separated your cot from the only other one in the infirmary. Though you couldn’t see them, you recognized the owners of the voices immediately.

“You understand my concerns though, don’t you?” Master Skywalker asked, exasperated.

“Yes, I do. But that’s exactly why we need to go together,” Ben said. “You said it yourself—it’s too risky to open up the Academy to the New Republic’s surveillance. For all we know, they’ve already been compromised. You can’t just leave everyone’s safety in their hands.”

“If what you said is true, then the Empire already knows where we are. Every second that passes is on borrowed time.” Though only a whisper, Master Skywalker’s irritation was clear.

The statement hung in the air. Guilt crashed into you like a tidal wave, pulling you under the surface. This entire mess was your fault. It was your father that had laced the food supply and endangered your peers, and though you had killed him, you didn’t feel victorious. Instead, all you felt was a gnawing pit in your stomach, slowly filling with shame and regret.

The gravity of your actions weighed on you, crushing your chest under its enormity. To wake from a nightmare and find that it had all been real. He was dead, either lying cold in an unmarked grave or reduced to ashes, locked away in a storage closet inside one of the many decaying Imperial bases scattered across the Outer Rim. Knowing that his blood coated your hands made you sick, but even now, you couldn’t be sure that it had been your hands. It was greater than that, an act fueled by something larger than yourself, a force more powerful than all of the suns in the galaxy.

You pinched your eyes shut, trying to ignore the memory as it played behind your lids. Ben’s voice served as an adequate distraction.

“And that’s why it’s crucial for you to stay here,” he said. “Master, I’m your most experienced student. I’ve spent nearly my entire life training to become a Jedi Knight. Let me prove to you that I’m worthy of that title.” His demand turned into a plea, beyond that of a pupil seeking approval from his mentor.

“I admire your spirit, Ben. I really do. And that is why I’m trusting you with the safety of my students.”

Disappointment sank through you. The exact scenario you had dreaded from the beginning was coming to fruition and you were powerless to stop it. As unfair as it was, Master Skywalker’s logic was sound—especially considering his prior suspicions of your close relationship with Ben. Nevertheless, your heart ached.

An unamused laugh rumbled in Ben’s chest. “Some responsibility that is. Protecting people who each have a lightsaber of their own, and enough sense to know how to use them correctly. I’m honored, really.”

“You misunderstand me–”

“No, I understand perfectly,” Ben hissed. “I’m capable enough to track her down halfway across the galaxy and bring her to safety, but not enough to take her on an authorized trip to Ilum—which as far as we know, has been deserted by all civilization for centuries–”

“How did you do it?” Master Skywalker interrupted.

“Do what?” Ben asked, his voice guarded.

“Exactly what you said. How you found her, trapped in an abandoned mining facility halfway across the galaxy. How did you do it?”

At that, you pried your eyes open again, watching their shadows move behind the curtain. You had asked him the same question and never received an answer.

Ben hesitated for a long moment before finally answering. “I’ve been having these…dreams.”

“Dreams?” Master Skywalker asked. “What kind of dreams?”

“It varies. Most of the time, the details are a blur. But other times, they’re vivid—almost real.”

“How so?”

Ben let out a shaky breath. “I’m not sure. All I know is that the night she was taken, just after I had fallen asleep, I had one. But this time, it felt less like a dream, and more like a vision.”

Despite Ben pausing for Master Skywalker’s response, he never received one. So, he filled the silence. “It felt like I was there, watching her get dragged out of her bed by Ren. But no matter how much I wanted to stop him, I was helpless. A bystander trapped inside my own mind.”

“And in this ‘dream’, you saw where they took her?” Master Skywalker’s question was equal parts cynical and weary.

“No,” Ben said. “I can’t really explain it, I just…” He paused, choosing his next words carefully. “Felt it.”

The ambiguity of his answer left you unsated, but seemingly was enough to conclude Master Skywalker’s interrogation. He was wise, more knowledgeable in the Force than you could ever wish to be. Perhaps all of this could be explained by the inexplicable ways of the Force—just like your connection with Ben. Mysteries best left unknown, you supposed.

“I sense that your feelings are clouded, Ben. I worry about you,” the Jedi Master said quietly.

Reluctantly, Ben replied, “There’s no need to.”

“These dreams you’re having are…unusual. Perhaps the Force is trying to warn you.”

“Warn me about what?” His tone was curt, more bold than yours would ever be when speaking to your Master.

You squirmed under the layers of blankets, suddenly uneasy about where this conversation was leading.

“Everything. The danger of forming attachments, the fear of loss. My own Master taught me these lessons—it’s only right that I pass them on to you.”

“That’s insane,” Ben scoffed, shifting his weight. “And I would’ve done the same for any of my classmates.”

“Really? You would’ve flown across the galaxy without my permission if, say, Voe had gone missing?”

The question must have struck a nerve, receiving no response from Ben. The vitriol for Voe that had been stowed away during the chaos quickly resurfaced, stronger than ever. You imagined what she would say if she knew the circumstances, that your father worked for the Empire this entire time. It was just the fuel she needed to turn your peers against you—once and for all.

A venomous feeling wrapped around your heart, sinking its claws deep into your flesh. Your pulse rose, and as it did, the machine recording each heartbeat grew louder, more rapid.

“Is that?” Ben asked in a hushed voice.

“She is awake,” 4-3B announced from the other end of the infirmary.

In the seconds that followed, you debated whether it was better to pretend that you were still sleeping, or give in and fully wake up. With little time to decide, you settled on a mix of both, inhaling deeply as you lazily rubbed the sleep from your eyes with the heel of your palms. As much as you would have liked for them to continue their conversation, you also knew that this was unavoidable—unless you could magically induce yourself into a coma.

Metal fingers wrapped around the white curtain as Master Skywalker pulled it back, revealing him and his nephew, both with unkempt hair and dark circles etched under their eyes.

“Hey kid, how are you feeling?” Master Skywalker asked, offering you a tender smile. 

Ben’s gentle, brown eyes landed on you instantly, scanning your face. Your cheeks burned under his gaze. Stars, you missed him. Close to you, holding you. But now wasn’t the time.

You cleared your throat. “I’ve been better,” you croaked, reaching for the pitcher of water beside you. Unfortunately for you, it was set on the table by your injured arm, the one that was still wrapped in bacta patches. Weakly, you gripped the handle of it, disappointed to find that the bacta treatments had only healed your bones—not your strength.

It took all your effort to raise the straw to your lips. Water spilled from the spout of the pitcher and onto your blankets, shocking your warm skin beneath. Before you dropped it, Ben’s hand clasped onto yours and steadily guided it to your lips.

“Thank you,” you said in a small voice, pinching the straw between your fingers and taking a few, long sips of the cold water.

Ben smiled and nodded in response before setting the pitcher down. “Let me get you a new blanket, too.”

“No, it’s okay. I already have too many as it is.” You managed a smile as you pinched the stack of fabric covering you.

“Since you arrived, your temperature has been below the normal parameters. In order for you to recover in a timely manner, I have placed multiple exothermic blankets on you and adjusted the heat settings in the infirmary,” 4-3B explained, shuffling over to your bed. It was holding a sleek, silver tray with an array of fresh bacta patches spread over it.

“I’m getting you a new blanket, whether you like it or not,” Ben said, already scouring the room for a fresh one.

“Any updates, Threebee?” Master Skywalker asked, peering at the new patches as the droid set them down on your table.

“By my calculations, as well as her impressive response to the initial bacta treatments, she should recover fully in the next week.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” he said, beaming at you. “As soon as you’re feeling up to it, you and Ben will go to Ilum. Now more than ever, you need a lightsaber that is attuned to you.”

You blinked. Did you mishear him? Or had he really changed his mind in the last five minutes? Behind Master Skywalker stood Ben, a smile ghosting his lips. You wondered if his heart was beating as fast as yours was.

Embarking on this journey seemed mundane in comparison to what you had survived. But despite the unknowns that laid ahead—particularly the looming threat of being hunted by the First Order—there was also anticipation, excitement. To experience adventure with Ben. A taste of the life that, for now, was not an option—and likely would never be. It was all you had ever wanted, and it was finally happening.

“Artoo will accompany you two in my place,” Master Skywalker added.

“What?” Ben said, returning with a folded blanket in his hands. “Does Geegee not meet your standards?”

“I hardly see how having two droids instead of one is a hindrance.”

Your eyes darted between the two men. “Excuse me, who’s Artoo?” you asked sheepishly.

“He’s my astromech unit,” Master Skywalker answered before looking at Ben. “And he will be going with you, or you won’t go at all.”

Ben shook his head in disbelief as he peeled the damp blanket back and draped the new one in its place. “Fine.”

Master Skywalker flashed a wry smile at his nephew before clearing his throat. “Now Ben, Threebee, if you both don’t mind, I’d like to speak with her. Alone.”

Ben’s eyes flicked between yours and Master Skywalker’s before he nodded reluctantly, turning his back to the both of you and letting the door slam shut behind him. You winced at the sound.

“Of course, Master. I will come back later,” the droid said, abandoning the tray of patches and hobbling behind the curtain, out of sight.

Ignoring his nephew’s rather dramatic exit, Master Skywalker pulled a chair closer to the bed and sat down, smoothing out the front of his robes. Blood thrummed in your ears and your head pounded as you propped yourself up on your elbows, biting down on your lip when you shifted your weight onto your injured arm. Whatever analgesic was infusing through the line was quickly neutralized when you started moving.

Swinging your legs over the edge of the bed, you faced him, avoiding his gaze. Without him saying a word, you already knew exactly what conversation would ensue.

The two of you were quiet for a moment, chests rising and falling with every breath, before he clasped his hands around yours, squeezing firmly. In the silence, his gray eyes spoke volumes, carrying a heavy weight.

“I cannot overstate how grateful I am for your safe return,” he said, his lips trembling as he pressed them into a tight line. “And I feel it’s necessary that I apologize.”

Your hand burned between his—not from discomfort, but rather from the contrast of heat against your cold skin. 4-3B had been right about your body temperature. The sensation made your condition seem real, less like clinical words being thrown around.

“You have nothing to apologize for, Master,” you said, shaking your head. “It wasn’t your fault. It was no one’s fault but my own.”

He sighed through his nose. “I was afraid you would say that.”

Taken aback, you remained quiet. It was the truth—all of this was your fault. If it weren’t for your lunatic father stalking you and wreaking havoc upon your life, you wouldn’t be in this situation, sitting across from your apologetic Master, heavily medicated in an infirmary. Truthfully, this was the best case scenario. No one else was hurt—excluding, of course, those who had impeded your efforts to get back to the Academy. But collateral damage was a consequence of war, which by the looks of it, was on the horizon. It was only a matter of time before the First Order resurfaced. Then, it would be your responsibility to help eliminate them, to snuff out the smoldering remains of the Empire.

Master Skywalker continued. “I failed to protect you—to protect all of my students. This is my burden to bear, not yours.” Releasing your hand, he leaned back, his knuckles white against the arms of the chair. “Lately, things have been…clouded. I can no longer rely on the Force alone for insight, but I will find other means to protect the Academy. I promise you this—from now on, you will be safe here. Always.”

You nodded in understanding. But there was more to the story, more that he didn’t know. Ben had only told him what he had seen—the rekindled power of the Empire. It was your responsibility to tell him what happened on Zeffo, admit to what you did. Sweat gathered in your palms at the memory of your father’s death, the image of him lying lifeless on the ground burned into your eyes. What would Master Skywalker think of you when he knew? Would this be the offense that broke the dam? Expulsion seemed like the best outcome of making this confession.

“Master, there’s something else you should know,” you said, afraid to raise your voice above a whisper.

His shoulders sagged. “I know. The Empire is rising again.” His defeat was tangible, as if he had single-handedly let down the entire galaxy. In fairness, you couldn’t imagine how he must have felt, given his role in destroying it nearly thirty years ago. A rebel with an unbreakable spirit, now forced to watch helplessly as insurgents breathed life back into the entity he had fought to dismantle. 

“Ben told me,” he sighed. “I’ve already contacted my sister in Republic City. The New Republic special forces will handle this.”

 “It’s not that—well, it is that, too. There’s more.” The words were heavy on your tongue, sticking like molasses. A tiny voice in your head reminded you that you were not obligated to tell him—you weren’t obligated to tell anyone. But the nagging feeling in your gut told you that honesty was the only path to inner peace. 

“The person responsible for this operation wasn’t just some Imperial zealot. It was my dad. My own father did this to me.”

Master Skywalker clenched and released his jaw, digesting the information. “That’s…” He paused. “Terrible.”

You nodded in agreement, unsure what to say. 

“I imagine that must have been very difficult to cope with,” he added.

“It was. My entire life changed in an instant, and honestly, I don’t really know if I’ll ever come to terms with it,” you said, swallowing the lump forming in your throat. Master Skywalker watched you from his seat, completely silent.

“But it doesn’t matter now. He’s dead.” You paused, hesitating one last time. “I killed him.”

A heavy silence fell over the room, making the air thick and difficult to breathe. You let out a shaky breath in relief. The burden was gone, but it was short-lived. Involuntary tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, burning your skin.

When he didn’t respond, you scrambled to articulate something to soften what you had just admitted. But what could you say? The Jedi were peacekeepers, protectors of the light—and more and more, you found yourself straying from its path.

“Master, I-I’m a monster,” you whispered, warm tears pouring over.

“What he did to you wasn’t right. Acting out of self-defense does not make you a monster,” he finally said, his voice calm.

You lowered your gaze to your hands, now resting in your lap. “Only I wasn’t acting in self-defense. When I asked him where my mother was, he admitted to murdering her. He compared her to a sick animal.” Blood boiled under your skin at the memory. “And when he said that, I wanted to hurt him—more than I’ve ever wanted to do anything. I wanted him to feel the way I did, how my mom felt when she died by his hand.”

With narrowed eyes, he stared at you, an inscrutable emotion written across his face. Not one of malice or disappointment, but something akin to curiosity.

Releasing a long breath, you added, “I wanted justice.”

“I can see why,” he said, resting his jaw on his metal hand. “The conflict you felt is…familiar to me.”

Of all the reactions you had anticipated, empathy was not one of them.

“It is?” you asked.

“Yes. Decades have passed now, but the feeling still lingers. The disappointment. The anguish.” His gaze was distant as he spoke, silently reliving his own experience.

“What did you do?” you asked. “I mean—what did you do to get rid of it?”

He drew in a long breath before exhaling with a renewed energy, his eyes brighter. “Time passed. Meditation helped me organize my thoughts, sort through my emotions before tucking them away in their designated spaces…” His thought trailed off into oblivion, but you didn’t want to intrude. He was being gracious enough by sharing at all.

“It was my father, too,” he said reluctantly. “The source of my conflict, my sorrow—it was him.”

His confession ignited hope in your chest, a hope that you, too, could be reprieved. 

“I won’t bore you with the details, but his actions could be categorized in a similar way as your father’s. Heinous acts, hurting the people he once loved…” He pressed a finger over his mouth in thought, twisting his peppered beard between his fingers. “For a long time, I blamed myself. I thought that if I had just known earlier, then somehow I could’ve stopped him. Put an end to his cruelty.”

“And did you?” you asked, lost in his story. “Were you able to stop him?”

He let out a soft sigh. “In a way, yes. But the darkness had its claws in him, and there was no absolution for him in this world. In the end, he taught me a lesson—one that I will carry with me forever. Just as you will, too.”

Admiration filled your chest. Throughout the galaxy, Luke Skywalker was a legend, a myth told by firesides and to children before they fell asleep. But he was alive—a living, breathing being with more adventures in his pocket than most would have in a lifetime. And here he was, in the flesh, relating to your experience.

“Master, teach me how to process these feelings. I need your guidance, now more than ever,” you pleaded, curling your fists around the blankets in your lap.

“And you will have it. But first, you need to rest. Strengthening your mind will require all of your energy—your body will need to be healed before you are able to,” he said, standing from his seat and placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Until then, try to find solace in knowing that, in their own ways, your parents are at peace.”

With that, he left, easing the door closed behind him. A calmness washed over you, drenching you in a radiant warmth, soaking through your skin and bones. Through the clouds came slivers of light—thin and feeble, but unyielding. A sunset falling beyond the horizon, only to give life to the stars glowing in the night sky.

This was the lesson. Without darkness, the light was impossible.

[cboffshore]

Since I saw you reblogging an ask post...

I was reading one of your fics on ao3 (I forgot which one :,) ) and in one of the notes you mentioned that there were certain Skybound angst tropes that you weren't quite fond of. So what are those tropes if you do mind me asking?

Hey there! Starting off with a SPICY one, that's fun. I've probably got that note on all of my Skybound stuff in some way, shape, or form, because aside from being my personal preferences, these tropes I don't like run DEEP in the fandom. This is going to get long, so under the cut we go! (Cw/tw for mentions of SA and related topics.)

There are three main tropes in Skybound fic that I dislike, but they appear so often and in so many forms that it's impossible to name them all, so they're split into three main categories for ease here. Ordered from least to most irritating:

Probably the least annoying on this list: violence and gore. This is the most understandable one that shows up - after all, this is a fighting show, and of course we've got that whole eyepatch scene to reckon with - but it's still a little annoying. I can usually work past it unless it's take 62837272727 of someone gouging out Jay's eye or a souped up Scrap n Tap scene with nothing added but more blood and gratuitous violence. Doesn't matter how creative it is, that's usually enough to make me close out unless the fic has something cooler to offer. It gets boring fast, okay? Like, I completely get it most times, but it's been done to death. Not always a total deal breaker, though. I've used shades of it in my own work, so I can't condemn it entirely.

A lethal pairing I like to call Sopping Wet Cat Jay and Therapy Dog Nya- usually comorbid, very rarely independent. This also usually presents in post-Skybound reveal/healing style fics. Sopping Wet Cat Jay is when all Jay (when presented with Skybound memories or reminders) is capable of is being absolutely, well, sopping wet and pathetic about it. Lots of crying and wailing and nightmares. Therapy Dog Nya is the traditional response to this, where Nya forgets her own trauma entirely to be a huggable object and supplier of gentle reassurance that nothing that happens to Jay was his fault. Again, I completely understand why people write these, but I feel very strongly that they're a disservice to BOTH characters. Jay flew the Keep (ETA: originally wrote Jeep lmao) straight into the Temple and threatened to turn Nadakhan into French toast! Nya DIED after spending all season trying to advocate for herself and her independence! Did we even watch the same show? Sure doesn't feel like it when I see this trope. Absolutely, yes, trauma presents weirdly down the line - but this as the default response always seems weird to me. And it shows up so, so often. Worse still is when a fic might try to give Nya a little agency and nod at her trauma, only to spin on its heel the moment the author decides Jay needs to start sobbing about mops or something. (I'm probably coming off bitter here, but let's be real: this has been happening for seven years. I'm tired.)

This one is an absolute deal breaker: gratuitous sexual assault and/or capital R offenses. Doesn't matter who it happens to, honestly, but the absolute worst is when it happens to Jay (perpetrated by Nadakhan) and when the author acts like it's canon and writes as if it's a given. I actually have already written an entire two part essay on this - part one is here, with a link to part two at the end. Some of my stances in part two have shifted slightly (for instance, I've recently blocked both case study authors because every time I see someone endorsing their work, I want to deep fry my thumbs), but for the most part, this essay conveys my feelings on, nuances of, and rough history of this trend WAY better than I can here. And if you thought #2 came off kinda bitter, well. This essay is battery acid, but I mean every word. An opinion I didn't fully examine in the essay is that I also feel it's a disservice to Nadakhan's character - he's FASCINATING, so to see him reduced to a r*pist just makes me mad. Go after him for his CANON crimes, please. Stop making stuff up!!

Anyway - thanks for the ask! If you read the essay and have any questions, please let me know.

[princesscolumbia]

Reminder: I Write Stuff

If you hadn't, somehow, seen the fanfics I post out...well, honestly, I don't blame you. I haven't exactly been consistent in posting them here, so that's on me.

That said, let's get y'all a list. Y'all like lists, right?

Completed Fics

Shortest list here, I tend to have so many WIPs I have a hard time chunking out any one to completion.

My Empire of Dirt (and Music Box Blues, alt. link 1 & 2) - My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic and Equestria Girls - Principal Celestia must unravel the mystery of why Sunset Shimmer is suddenly unable to communicate after the Fall Formal incident

The Consequences of Good Intentions (alt. link) - My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic and Equestria Girls - In the aftermath of Sunset Shimmer's Very Respectable Class Reunion, Principal Celestia teams up with Princess Celestia to deal with the fallout. The sexy, sexy fallout.

Whom Gods Deflower - My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic and Equestria Girls - In which Discord is hoist on his own petard and Principal Celestia gets a taste of her own medicine...or at least ironic karma.

Uncertain Future - El Goonish Shive - Susan never claimed to be sociable, but somehow she's the one that needs to manage her friend's relationships.

Like a Cat in Heat - Ranma 1/2 - What if the spring Ranma fell into wasn't Spring of Drowned Girl, but Spring of Drowned Warrior Woman? And what if that meant certain...biological imperatives were suddenly a thing Ranma had to deal with?

Dragon's Lair - Ranma 1/2 - Sequel to Like a Cat in Heat, Nabiki Tendo has a mystery on her hands in the form of her roommate. It's a good thing she's cute.

Ranma's Lost Challenge - Ranma 1/2 - Akane explains something to Ranma and the aquatransexual is NOT prepared (🔞Adults Only!)

WIP, Partially Published

All stuff that I have in development at one stage or another. No, none of these are on hiatus or cancelled.

Double Trixie Trouble - My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic and Equestria Girls - Some of the human authorities want to make official contact with the Equestrian government now that the portal is open whenever they want. Naturally, Princess Twilight sends The Great and Powerful Trixie!

Lost Little Wolf: The Minor Key (alt. link) - My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic - An isekai/displaced fic where I die in our world and am reborn in the body of a Changeling Queen.

Fallen Star - My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic - A human winds up stranded on Equestria

A Hive of Queens - Six changelings who are heirs to their hive are pulled from their home universe to help rescue a world where Chrysalis successfully deposed Celestia...but never accounted for Nightmare Moon

Deviation (alt. link) - My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic and Equestria Girls - Sunset escapes custody as she's being banished from Canterlot after Celestia finds her in the restricted archives, but instead of landing in the 'normal' Equestria Girls universe, she winds up in an Omegaverse version with humans that have second genders and enhanced senses. Now she must deal with being one of them.

You'll Do... - She-ra (2018) - Shadow Weaver catches Adora trying to sneak out to find the sword in the Whispering Woods. She keeps Adora in The Fright Zone and sends Catra instead, but with something...extra to ensure Adora is properly focused on her mission with The Horde

Lost in the Dark - She-ra (2018) - A derelict generation ship hangs dead in space, powered by a portal that has been inactive for 1,000 years...until suddenly it opens up and disgorges Adora and Catra. They're alone on the ship until the portal opens again and spits out...Adora and Catra. And then again. And again. From across the multiverse, different versions of Adora and Catra are pulled in and they must figure out how to survive, then how to get home.

Star Trek: Strike Team Valkyrie - Star Trek, Ranma 1/2, She-ra (2018), Equestria Girls, Arcane, The Locked Tomb, Carmen Sandiego (2019), The Owl House - Admiral's Angella and Celestia have been receiving reports that lead them to the conclusion that something has altered reality. They assemble a strike team of various crews from across the fleet to investigate.

Fission - Sailor Moon & Ranma 1/2 - Ranma and Usagi wind up in a nearly impossible encounter where they're transforming at the same time during a collision. Since nothing immediately happened, they don't think anything of it. Then...both their lives get strange...well, strange even by their standards.

And at This Point I'm Afraid to Ask - Ranma 1/2 - After graduation, Ranma finally gets tired of being ignorant of a very important definition and goes to Nabiki for help. (🔞Adults only!)

Might, maybe publish a list of WIPs that haven't had anything published yet at some point as well.

[borom1r]

THANK @theshakespearetrash FOR MORR QUESTIONS IMMMMMNNN VERY HIGH ive never RPed as John Marlott but ive written 2 fics for him tht counts right? right

(ask meme)

1. Is your muse afraid of death?

he wants to die so bad. + then he does and his family is gone AND his rest is stolen from him 💔 so no. but it’s very sad

2. What is your muse’s kill count? 

huh. that’s a good question actually. I think.. huh. not many? Hervey’s henchdude in s1 and i think someone else?? im very high rn he killed the one dude in s2 to escape the asylum n there’s a lotta death that follows him but like 2? 3? ppl HE kills on screen.

ofc that’s not touchin on the war/anything pre-canon in his work. + he blames himself for the death of his wife and child so those Could be counted

3. What is your muse’s biggest fear? 

everyone he loves dying. + hey guess what happens in canon!!

4. How easy is it to anger your muse?

not very. he knows the dance of Polite Society Manners and can keep his composure. he might be stern but it’s rare that he Actually gets angry. until his sanity starts slipping but u know that’s beyond his fuckin control

5. What is your muse’s biggest regret? 

everything tht happened w his wife n child

6. Does your muse believe in an afterlife? 

LOL yea but he doesn’t get to go thereeeeee

7. How many scars does your muse have?

HM. many. lots on his back n obvs the scars from Hervey. bet he has quite a few more tho

8. Does your muse tend to bottle things up?

yes but not.. mm, not consciously i think. he’s just so used to isolation that i don’t think he even Fathoms opening up to someone as a possibility

9. What is one thing that would break your muse?

HRM. well. Flora’s death does, one could argue. at least it starts the steep downward spiral into his rebirth and further decline following his institutionalization

10. Does your muse have nightmares? What about?

obviously yea + im fucking insane abt him. barking like a dog @ Sean Bean fucking gutting himself with fabric shears

11. Would your muse kill for someone they care about? 

oh yea ofc he would. of course he would.

12. What was the worst injury your muse has received?

does it count as an injury if it happened postmortem? i think the psychological trauma caused by it means it counts. the surgical wounds from Hervey

13. How much pain can your muse withstand? For how long? 

s1? a fair amount of pain for quite a long time. s2? the man’s a corpse. he got coffin shrapnel in his side and fuckin walked home. he’s fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine he’s fine don’t ask

14. What was the most traumatic moment in your muse’s life?

Hervey’s bullshit forever. hate that man hitting him w bricks unironically

15. How often does your muse cry? Do they view it as weakness?

RARELY + feel like he’s probably neutral abt it conceptually he’s just so used to being completely alone. i think emotions are kind of just a numb ache for him for a while. + then of course he bonds w Flora and Nightingale and then Everything Goes To Hell And Crashes And Burns

16. If your muse could talk to one person they’ve lost, who would it be? 

HM. his wife i think. bc he at least got the closure of seein Flora + Nightingale reunited. but he never got to see his wife even Before his rebirth

17. Does your muse consider themselves a good person? Why or why not? 

HRM. s1? no i think he’s neutral to himself at BEST. s2……….. nooooooooo but also yes kind of i think Esther really helps him see the good in himself. so by the end of s2 Yes but only then

18. Does your muse think they’re capable of changing? Do they even want to?

OH. very good question. does he? i think he feels like he Has to believe in change bc Esther and Flora and Nightingale did ultimately play a role in changing him for the better. and Hervey changed him for the worse. but also these r all external forces effecting him not like. himself. can he? I don’t think so. I think if he thought abt it he’d think that he himself is stagnant. it’s like pond ripples. if you lob a rock into water there’s already rocks in the bottom of that bitch so the only real change is surface distortion and a little more weight. and ultimately the ripples stop and the water settles. maybe it’s cloudier bc sediment got stirred up. maybe it’s clear, who knows. Still just a fuckin lake. does that make sense? idk man I cried in a theater today + toook too many edibles he’s himself. that’s an answer